Come What May
by Daimeera
Summary: She should have known, she later told herself, that their comparative bliss could only last for so long. They were perhaps too in love, and they both had a very faint feeling that it was so, but no one can quite shun overwhelming happiness.
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi, nor do I own the majority of the characters appearing in this fanfic. In fact, I don't even own most of the plot. The wonderful writers of the series are responsible for the majority of the story line--I am merely elaborating on something already created, and hopefully, doing it the justice it deserves. 

I welcome your feedback.

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Chapter I 

She woke up naked beside him, never dreaming that this would be the day that everything went to hell. She should have known, she later told herself, that their comparative bliss could only last for so long. They'd been sleeping in the same bed since the first night she'd stayed with him. He'd given her the bed, but when the tears overcame her, he slipped into the room and held her close. It hadn't taken them much longer to leave their clothing behind entirely.

She flipped over to face him, and he woke up, tickled by her red hair against his cheek. He reached out to her and her hand met his, and at that moment, her pain had never seemed so far away. Before she'd met him, she could have stayed in bed all day. Now she was awake before the alarm went off.

They shared breakfast and kisses. Both were proficient cooks, but they rarely bothered beyond emptying a can. For Ellie, cooking reminded her too much of being the caretaker--of how her mother had expected dinner on the table for long before Ellie had been ready to reliniquish her childhood. Sean, on the other hand, simply didn't care if he had canned peas or caviar. Food was food--the quicker, the better.

When they got to school, they were surprised to see the television personnel. They'd never much cared about extra-curriculars, and had been unaware of the pending trivia game show starring their fellow students. Sean supposed his ex-girlfriend was on the team--she had a certain way of getting involved in everything and anything that would be remotely beneficial to her resume. Sean supposed she didn't do it for that reason, but all the same, it was a little hard on the head to see her everywhere. However he may feel about Emma, he still harbored a certain sense of guilt of his behaviour the year before.

Ellie had a meeting with Sauve first period. While things hadn't been sunshine and butterflies since she'd left, she'd learned to laugh again. Today she'd brought a photo of Bueller, joking that he was what happened when the badboy and the goth made love. Sauve hadn't been particularly amused--hadn't been amused ever since Ellie had stopped cutting because Sean asked her to. Hadn't been amused to hear that they were sleeping together, making love each night. She pretended, anyway, inserting a few notes of caution when she could, and praying after Ellie had left. You weren't supposed to get attached to the people you dealt with--they were business, after all--but the rules weren't easy to follow.

They daydreamed through their classes, thinking only of each other and counting the minutes until school was over. They were perhaps too in love, and they both had a very faint feeling that it was so, but no one can quite shun overwhelming happiness. Sean knew cars inside and out, anyway, so paying attention wasn't strictly required, and Ellie had always been smart. Before Degrassi, they'd offered to move her ahead a grade, but deathly shy at the time, she had declined. She was still the same shy girl inside--she merely disguised it behind eyeliner, and quick remarks. Sean knew her best--few others had ever been allowed so deep inside her.

They had different lunch hours that day--most days, in fact. Sean took two grade eleven courses--ones he'd managed to skip ahead in, or perhaps skip forward to where he would have been under different circumstances--but normally, he had lunch with the other grade tens. She sat instead with Ashley, trying to pay attention while her friend discussed the in's and out's of why Downtown Sasquatch was going to be famous. It was obvious to everyone but Ashley that she'd never really stopped loving Craig.

Ellie had heard about Rick, of course. She was also well aware of just what had happened that morning, and who had arranged things to be as they were. None of the parties responsible had actually said it, but their smirks weren't a product of acing an English test, or being on the honor roll. She never really knew just how their actions would change her life--all of their lives.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II 

Upon reflection that evening, Ellie hated Sauve. The counsellor hadn't thought to tell her what had happened--or more importantly how it had happened. She'd told Hazel about Jimmy, yet neglected to mention a word of Sean's ordeal. She didn't find out until she saw the bandage--and even then, Sean said little, forcing her to guess and piece together the smallest details that she knew.

He was aware as it happened that things would never be the same. Rick had a gun, and that was all that should have mattered, yet his head was spinning with regret, knowing that this would destroy what he and Ellie had, and remembering jokes and tidbits of irrelevant information--an inebriated ant always falls over onto its right side; a pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes--and trying not to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of such thoughts. And then the gun pointed at Emma and Toby and without thought--yet with a world of thought--he was holding it, and his head screamed as they both fell, the shot deafening him, and then no one made a sound.

Sex that night was rough, and hurried, and by the time they were through, they both knew that come the next night, they wouldn't be sharing a bed, and they certainly wouldn't be sharing a body. Ellie left her arm warmers on and both were acutely aware of what could be found underneath, if Sean had cared to look. Neither, however, was willing to discuss it, and so it remained a secret that wasn't really a secret.

Outwardly, they were everything they'd always been, and more. Ellie's tongue was sharper than ever, and Sean, the heroic, now-worshipped thief smiled wanly, and borrowing Ellie's favorite reaction, shoved and shoved at the pain until he himself believed he was fine.

Ellie hated Sauve, and she hated Rick, and she hated the world for what had happened. Ellie, always inwardly sympathetic, Ellie, a lover despite it all, lost her very essence. She dimly recalled her comments to Emma, and wished she'd said more. She didn't hate Rick for being Rick, she hated him for stealing her naive hopes and dreams and wishes.

They spent the weekend watching the news and dodging reporters and trying to convince themselves and each other that nothing had changed when really, nothing had stayed the same. Even Bueller sensed the difference--normally playful and demanding, the ferret stayed out of their way.

Ellie grew sick of the tireless reports, and Sean became obsessed. He was reliving it, constantly, picking up each newspaper, taping the reports on the television, and interjecting occasional comments about how everyone was making a big deal out of nothing, and how calling him a hero was absurd, and that he was fine, perfectly fine. But he wasn't sleeping. He kept the television on long after the broadcast was over, watching infomercials with unblinking eyes as Ellie, awake in the bedroom, atoned for whatever it was she had or hadn't done and offered blood worship to whatever gods had protected Sean, and cursed the very same gods for taking him away.

And so the minutes ticked by, and then it was Monday, and they had to face the world.


	3. Chapter III

Not altogether happy with this chapter, so watch for a revision of some point. Actually, I plan to revise them all. Just this one more than the rest.

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Chapter III

'Student Dead after School Shooting.' 'One Dead, One Seriously Injured in Academic Tragedy.' 'Student Hero Saves Lives.' The headlines were still screaming at them early Monday morning, reminding them of that which hadn't for a moment left their heads. Only one reporter dared bother them, and Ellie dismissed her with a trademark comment, guiding Sean into the school.

Classes had been cancelled in favor of counselling--the whole school was in a state of terror, despite the fact that Rick was long dead (or, at least, what generally constitutes long in adolescent measurement). It was, of course, time to play blame. The pessimists blamed themselves. The optimists blamed Rick, and the administration and anyone else they could think of. Ellie and Sean were silent, not even allowing themselves the privelage of blame.

Ellie managed to drag Sean to one of the groups. She doubted it would be much help for either of them, but she was clueless as to what would be of assistance. She later accused Sean of not even making an effort, conveniently forgetting the fact that she had done even less.

They arrived at Wasaga Beach before Ellie had even had a chance to figure out what had happened. One minute, Sean was calm, the next he was smashing computer monitors, intent on confronting his parents. Of course, plans never work that easily, and the parents, wonderful alcoholic specimens that they were, had slammed the door in their son's face. Ellie tried not to long for her own mother, hoping, as she did each day, that the rehab would be successful.

Sean knew he was falling apart, and it didn't take long to show--nor did it take long for him to return to his parents' house and make amends. Ellie knew, as he rounded the corner away from her sight, that he would break down in front of them. She only dared hope that they would have in them what he needed.

He returned quicker than she'd expected and she knew he wasn't going back to Toronto, and she tried to spirit him away before he realised it for himself, but he'd known it already. She voiced it, finally, knowing he couldn't, and he nodded.

"But... Sean, I love you." _I need you_, she wanted to say, but she knew it would only be the kiss of death, and it would tear him to pieces. Because she loved him, she kept it to herself.

"I love you too, but..." She didn't hear anything else. That last word, the horrible, most hated of words, echoed in her mind. The preceding phrase could be no comfort when that horrible 'but' lingered on. He tried to reach out to her, she later thought, although she wasn't one hundred percent certain, but she knew that if he did, she had jerked away. And she hated herself for her anger, but there it was.

He knew it would hurt her, and he wanted more than anything to take back his words, but he couldn't. If he returned, he would find his salvation in theft, and in the arms of girls he'd known for five minutes. He knew that she wouldn't have left him, no matter how much sex he used to fill the void, and it was that which stopped him from falling on his knees and begging her forgiveness.


	4. Chapter IV

I very hesitantly brought the rating down to PG-13 on the advice of a few readers, and upon carefuly reflection. I will restore the R rating if either it becomes more explicit, or I get feedback that it should be so.

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Chapter IV

Home wasn't home anymore, even if there was a pet. Jay had driven her and Emma home again, and Ellie had taken the front seat without being asked. She rathered Jay see her tears than Emma. She'd never known Sean's ex--she supposed Emma was a good enough person, and Ashley was certainly fond of her--but it seemed appropriate to steer clear of the girl. She'd been stunned that Sean had taken her along, then again, Sean had done a lot of things lately that surprised her. Ellie said nothing the entire trip, and aside from a brief moment of disconcerting small talk, the other two had followed suit.

The place was cold, and it wasn't just because the thermostat was turned down. There was a lack of love, a lack of life, and it was that which no heat or light could destroy. It was late by the time they got back--traffic had been heavy, and it was an hour long drive when the roads were empty--and Ellie was lost. She wandered each room, sensing his presence and hating it--from his sweater on the floor to the dirty dishes in the sink--and in the same breath, needing it. She found herself in the shower, washing away the sand from another era, eliminating the evidence of his breath upon her skin.

She went through the formalities of the evening--a late snack that she threw in the trash, a change into pajamas that let every draft reach her skin--but she didn't sleep. That night it was her who had a sudden interest in toaster ovens and magic pills and miscellaneous other goods and services that didn't even warrant prime time advertising.

She skipped school the next day and the day after as well, knowing that with all the post-war chaos and therapy, the chances of her absence being particularly marked were slim. Ashley found her, finally, wearing the same pajamas she had adorned two nights before, staring at the television that remained perpetually powered, Bueller in her arms and begging for attention that wasn't there to be given.

Ashley took the ferret from her and put him in his cage, then sat beside her. "I blackmailed Emma into telling me," she said. "I'm sorry, Ellie."

She shook her head. "Nothing to be sorry for. I'm fine. Sean's fine. I don't know what you're talking about. He did what he had to. Guys suck. Craig does, Spinner does, and Sean does too. It's an inherent part of their nature. Not that Sean did anything wrong. It's not his fault I'm stuck paying a bill I can't afford." She shrugged and laughed self-consciously. "I'm supposed to send him his things. He left a message on the answering machine. Want to help me and make sure I don't set the place on fire instead?"

Ash nodded. "Tomorrow," she said. "Today, I can't, I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be practicing with the band. Jimmy can't, you know. He's still..." She realised it might not be the best topic. "Get cleaned up. Change your clothes. You'll feel better. Mom made me do that last year, when I was moping about Craig, and it helped." She stood and left, satisfied with the knowledge that Ellie was still conscious.

Ellie hardly heard the door close behind her. She walked to Bueller's cage, picked up the ferret, and returned to her previous activities. Doing was simply that much easier than thinking.

The phone rang, and Ellie gave it a disinterested look, then let the machine pick up. "Ellie? Chantel Sauve. You missed your appointment with me this morning. I'll schedule you in for the same time tomorrow, but please give me a call when you get this. 549-2917. Thanks, and I'll talk to you soon."

Ellie didn't even bother to hit erase.


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V 

"Ms. Sauve? Ellie Nash, returning your call. I can't make it today, sorry. I think I'm coming down with something. We can reschedule next week or whenever." She was coming down with something, all right. It simply wasn't the traditional something that was socially acceptable.

She had gotten dressed and cleaned up yet she still felt like shit. She hadn't expected any different, mind you, but a surprise would have been nice. She forced a smile when Ashley arrived--it was simply easier that way. No prodding questions translated into no lying.

Ashley babbled on about man-whore Craig, as usual, and how they kissed and she thought she wanted to get back together. Duh. So Ellie felt compelled to expend some advice--namely, that guys could rot in hell if there was such a place. Ash was surprisingly unappreciative.

It took all of Ellie's strength not to destroy Sean's things, and strength she didn't even know she had to stop herself from sending a letter begging him to come home. Instead she packed all that he owned but included no discernable trace of emotion, refusing him the chance to analyze anything but the lack of contact. A box, an address, and his personal effects were all she could give him. She held herself to the rules, but Ashley did not. When Ellie had momentarily disappeared, she slipped an image of Bueller into the body of one of the sweaters.

It didn't take them long to finish, and Ellie shuffled Ashley out the door, not particularly concerned with being polite. Before she left, Ashley pressed a small piece of paper into Ellie's hand, and gave a tiny wave. It was a half hour before Ellie noticed it.

You are cordially invited to celebrate the union of Robert and Christopher, it read. Robert was, of course, Ashley's father. Ellie knew that well, yet it took her a long moment to figure out why she was being invited to the wedding of someone she had never heard of. She later decided that she had merely been blocking them out of her mind--their last encounter had included her mother, and had therefore been highly embarrassing.

Ellie tossed it aside. She supposed Ash could use the moral support, but a celebration of love was simply out of the question--especially a celebration that would more than likely include make-out sessions between her closest friend, and The Cheater. She had long ago given him the capitalized title.

She supposed that while she dressed and make-up (freak) free, she should try and find a job. The landlord certainly wouldn't pity her enough to let her have the place rent-free, although it hardly seemed worth it to her anymore. She found a few mangled copies of her resume, scratched in her co-op job from the year before, and headed out the door.

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It was a school day, with ugly grey weather, and the beach was therefore nearly neglected, a fact that wasn't particularly upsetting to Sean. He had found himself perched on a deadwood log with no recollection of having taken himself there. He remembered setting out, and he was aware of where he was, but the time in between was lost.

Bang, gasp, collapse. Bang, gasp collapse. Over and over until he wanted to scream. Scream. Had he screamed? Had Rick? He couldn't remember. Bang, gasp, collapse, scream. No, that wasn't right. There couldn't have been any screaming.

But the blood, it was the blood that was the worst. It had always been about blood. He'd never suffered any particular aversion to it, but then again it had never seemed to follow him as it had of late. It all started with the sucker-punch that got him sent to Toronto in the first place. He didn't like to to talk about it, and didn't even like to think about it, but it had happened. It was the first time he'd made someone bleed. And then of course there was Ellie. It killed him to wonder if ever she'd bled for him. He knew rationally that he couldn't save her, and in fact shouldn't save her, but that didn't make the sight, or the thought, any easier to bear--or, as he was sometimes responsible for, to bare. And now Rick. The kid would have killed Emma and Toby and any other number of students if Sean hadn't stepped in, but that didn't change things. Similar reassurances are so ineffective that they're laughable. And Sean did laugh--a bitter, wrenching chuckle. He supposed he was lucky there was no one else around to see him, and get him shipped off to who knows where.

He hadn't spoken to his parents since he'd announced that he was staying--in fact, they'd quickly found solace in their very overused bottles--yet he still knew that it was for the best. He also knew that he was a wimp, clearly evidenced by the fact that he hadn't even had the guts to call Ellie himself to ask for his things, but that was the least of his worries.

Bang, gasp, collapse.


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

There was loud pounding on the door and Ellie rubbed her eyes and glared at the clock. She'd fallen asleep, finally, in front of the television and the same infomercials that they played every night. She ignored the knocking for a moment, but it didn't let up, so she dragged herself off the couch.

"What?" she said, swinging the door open. "Paige?" She raised an eyebrow and wrinkled her nose.

"Okay, hun, when even Alex is concerned, and blabbing to me about it, something has to be done. Can I come in?" Ellie shook her head, but Paige pushed past her. "Thanks. I'll pretend that was a nod and that you actually do know your manners."

Ellie rolled her eyes, but Paige's presence had at least served to distract her from Sean. Oh, yes, Sean, she was supposed to be fretting about him, she remembered.

"Um, eww," Paige said. "This place is a mess, it smells like skunk, and you look like you haven't showered in a year. What are you thinking? Boys come and go, but a reputation can be destroyed in an instant." Ellie supposed it was Paige's way of saying she cared--not that Ellie understood why. Ever since Paige had turned her in to Sauve for the cutting, the girl seemed to think she had a right to intrude upon Ellie's life.

"Paige, I really don't need this right now," Ellie insisted, but of course the other girl paid her no attention, drifting instead toward the kitchen and opening the fridge. She made a face, then pretended to suppress a gag as Bueller sniffed around her ankles.

"What is that THING?" she demanded. "And why does it stink so bad?" Ellie scooped the ferret up in her arms pretectively. She didn't think Paige would actually do anything to him, but Paige wasn't exactly predictable. "Okay, he's a ferret, I get it," Paige said. "My cousin had one. Give him here." Ellie, too stunned to react, relinquished her companion. "You, go shower," Paige continued. "And hun, deodorant is your friend. I'll see what I can do with the place. It can't be worse than cleaning up after my brother."

Ellie did as she was told. It was easier to obey than to argue. She returned some ten minutes later, her hair wet but clean, and wearing old but comfortable clothes. Paige had already finished the dishes, and was started on tidying Bueller's things.

"When was the last time you ate?" Paige asked. "Your fridge is, like, empty except for some fuzzy green stuff." Ellie shrugged, trying to remember. "Okay, whatever. I'll buy you something. Spin will just have to wait a little longer for his cash." Ellie wrinkled her brow, confused by her last statement, then dismissed it.

"You should go now," she said. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I can look after myself." She walked to the door and very pointedly opened it. Paige sighed, but took the hint.

"You really should--" The door slammed shut before Ellie could hear what Paige thought she 'really should' do. Ellie was curious for precisely one second, and then returned to wallowing. She was perfectly aware that wallowing in self-pity was precisely what she was doing, but it was strangely satisfying.

When the looked in the drawer later that day, Ellie had to laugh. Paige had taken every knife she could find--butter knives included. She wondered where Paige had thought to stash them, then brushed away the thought. It didn't matter, anyway--Ellie always made certain she had an ample supply of sharpness, going so far as to hide razor blades and knives around the house in case some were discovered. Speaking of which... Ah, the power of suggestion. 


	7. Chapter VII

To all my wonderful reviewers, thank you! Your feedback is very much appreciated, and it makes me even more eager to get writing. I plan on hopefully returning the favor at some point. Glad to hear you're all enjoying it, and I hope this mini-chapter (well, they're all mini chapters, I guess) is up to par.

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Chapter VII

Sean was getting antsy. His parents hadn't changed, drinking their way through the day more often than not, and he was missing Ellie, and going crazy trying to block the memories that just weren't blockable. To add to the fire, that one, horrible reporter had tracked him down yet again, and insisted that she deserved an interview. He continued to brush her off, but of course she refused to listen, so he spent most of his days on long walks the length of the beach and back, where, thank goodness, her high-heeled-highness dared not tread.

His parents hadn't bothered to harass him about school, and Sean had things he was much more concerned with, so he was alone much of the time, but he liked it that way. He had a nagging sense of loss when he thought of Degrassi and Toronto and all he'd left behind, but the memories would have swarmed him, and even here they had found him and were trying to chase him onward and away. He'd started swimming despite the fact that it was fall and freezing cold and although the water could clear his mind for moments, nothing could cleanse his memory entirely.

He wanted more than anything to pick up the phone and call Ellie or even Jay or Alex or hell, even Emma, but he couldn't. He was afraid of what he might hear, afraid that Ellie had crumbled, and even more afraid that she'd moved on. He knew it wasn't fair, to wish her chained to him, and he knew he had to stay away, but that couldn't stop him from craving her with every inch of his being. She was as much on his mind as Rick. He longed for her laugh, for her sarcastic wit, and Bueller, god how he missed that weasel. He dreamt of his hands in her hair and his lips on hers and the gentle angles of her body in his arms. But he would be poison to her, and seeing her would only force him away to cheap sex in the back of a car with a girl he'd known five minutes. He knew this, knew that he'd bury himself in relationships that couldn't work out just to continue the charade of normality.

And then the package came.

He was okay. Seeing her handwriting on the box was bearable, smelling her faint scent clinging to one of his sweaters was liveable. But a picture of Bueller, in Ellie's smiling arms, was too much. He'd never been a crier, but by the time he reached the beach, his cheeks were soaked with remembrance.

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"Eleanor Nash, this is unacceptable. I've rescheduled your appointment for tomorrow morning at 9:15 sharp. I expect you there or there WILL be trouble. You can't keep skipping out on appointments without calling and expect me just to forget about it. I'm not stupid, Ellie, and neither are you. If you want me to show up there with a cop car and an ambulance, I will. 9:15 or I'll declare you a risk to yourself, and you'll be in the hospital by tomorrow night."

Ellie rolled her eyes at Sauve's voice on the machine, but scribbled the time onto the back of her hand. She knew there would be hell to pay, but it beat having her door pounded down and then being shipped off to the looney bin. She would deal with it the next day, anyway.

That day, she'd found an eviction notice on her door. She knew it was only a matter of time--Sean had left the day before the rent was due, and his landlord was especially strict, knowing that they were only teenagers. The landlord had never been happy about them living there.

She hadn't had any calls about jobs--not that she was surprised--and she had no savings. She supposed she'd have to move back home. Her mother would be out of rehab very shortly, anyway, and Ellie felt obligated to help her out. She just hoped Bueller would survive the Nash residence--and that she, herself, would as well. She certainly hadn't done well on that front in the past, then again, her mother hadn't gone to rehab in the past. She sighed. Only time would tell.

She was riled up just thinking about it, and she wanted nothing more than to jam a knife into her arm, but she knew Sauve would be upset enough at her as it was, and if she managed to go a day or two without, she might just have herself a few bargaining chips.

She'd always been a good gambler.


	8. Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

They were back to their old stalemate--Ellie staring at the floor, speechless, and Sauve staring at Ellie, concerned. They'd been in the same position a year before, mind you Ellie's hair hadn't looked nearly as good, but it was an instant flashback for the two of them. Once again, it was Sauve who broke the silence.

"I need to see your arms, please, Ellie. We both know why you've been skipping out on me, but what I need to find out is just how close you are to doing something dangerous." Ellie couldn't look at her. She glared at her feet and tugged on her sleeve and revealed her latest handiwork. She'd given in the night before, which had actually been that morning, she supposed, and the wound was still oozing slightly. To anyone but Ellie, it wasn't a pretty sight.

Sauve sighed. "You need to take better care of those," she said. "Gauze and something to keep them clean at the very least. And if you're not going to get stitched up, at least keep some butterfly strips nearby to hold the deeper ones closed. This isn't good, Ellie"  
She sighed again. "I'm not going put you in the hospital, at least not today. But I am going to insist that you come see me more often, and if you skip appointments again without a very good reason, I'm going to have to take action. I don't want you getting hurt. Your teachers have also informed me that you've been skipping school. Care to explain yourself?"

"I didn't feel like going," Ellie said. "It's not like the work is hard. I won't fail because I miss a few classes."

"It's been a week, Ellie." Ellie was mildly surprised at that statement. She had lost track of the days. "I know that you and Sean were close, and I know that his leaving is on your mind. But you have to move on at some point. He made his choice. You can't make it for him, and you shouldn't have to wait around. Go on other dates. Join the yearbook or something. Just don't mope around and spend your days miserable, and covered in scars. You've had a lot of unpleasentness; no one's denying that. But eventually, you're going to have to deal with it."

Ellie nodded, unconvinced, and Sauve sighed once more. She seemed particularly fond of that expression of exasperation. "Get to class," she said. "You get a one time note excusing you from not having your homework done. Use it wisely." She scribbled something onto her notepad, then tore off the sheet and handed it to Ellie. "Tomorrow, same time, I want to see you here."

Ellie rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Can I go now?" She didn't wait for confirmation.

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Lunch was even worse than usual. Ashley was nowhere to be found--and, Ellie suspected, that probably meant she was with Craig--and by the time Ellie had finished the inevitable lecture from her umpteenth teacher, most of the seats were filled. It was Spinner, and company, or a group of seventh graders. She chose Spinner.

"So, as I was saying," Spinner said, continuing his conversation with the guy next to him, "Manny and I were never anything. I mean, she's a total slut. And it was nice while it lasted--" here he grinned wickedly, "--but that's all it was." Ellie glanced at him with mild interest. She had never liked the guy, but he was about as far away from Sean as she could get, and right now, that was perfect.

Spinner finally noticed her. "Yo, freak girl," he said. "Can I help you?"

"Actually, you can," she said. "Have an extra dollar to lend to a hungry girl? I'd really owe you." She looked up at him through her lashes, and to her delight, he smiled back.

"And what's in it for me?" he asked. She was well aware that back in the ninth grade, he'd had more than a small crush on her. She just hoped that his interest hadn't waned.

"You," she said carefully, "get to take me out tonight. And since you have a job, and I don't, you get to pay for both of us." She forced a flirtatious grin, hoping he would bite. He did. He jumped up (as well as one can jump up from a cafeteria table) and soon returned with a hot plate and drink. She reached for it, but he held it just out of her grasp.

"Give me some incense," he said. "If you want this, that is." She didn't bother to correct him, at least not so obviously.

"Incentive, eh?" she said, pretending to think about it. She reached up and kissed his cheek, then grabbed the tray. "Pick me up at seven," she said. "Don't be late."

"Where are you goin'?" he asked, exaggerating a pout. "Aren't we good enough for you to eat lunch with?"

"You're nauseating," Ellie said. "Fries up noses are not appetizing. Besides, Ash finally decided to show her face. We'll find some place outside. If you learn to be human, you can join us, but the subject will more than likely be Craig." She rolled her eyes, but smiled, and left with a tiny wave. She had almost convinced herself to be happy. 


	9. Chapter IX

IX

Ellie was in her last period English class when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Paige.

"Welcome back to life, hun," she said, rolling her eyes. "But maybe you didn't get the memo. Friends don't date friends' exes. Especially not the assholes."

"And maybe you didn't get the memo," Ellie said, "but last time I checked, we weren't friends. You just assumed you had the right to poke your very blonde head into my life." She turned around and pointedly ignored Paige for the remainder of the class. The other girl caught up to her after they were dismissed. Ellie was grabbing books from her locker.

"Look, Ellie, I'm just concerned. Spin isn't exactly the greatest guy in the world. I mean, he can be sweet but he can also be an idiot. You know how he treated Marco. You don't know how he treated me, but I can assure you that he's not Sean."

"And that," Ellie said, "is the point. Sean and I didn't work out, in fact, we failed miserably. So it's time for something new. I don't know why you're so concerned about me. It's not like we've ever gotten along. So let me do what I'm going to do. I don't need you looking out for me every step of the way. I never have." She slammed the locker door and walked away, completely ignoring Paige's excuses and protests. 

-----------------------

"I can't believe you're going out with him." Ashley screwed up her face in utter revulsion. "He went from idiot to creep in a matter of days. I mean, it was his fault Craig and I didn't get back together sooner. And he treated Paige like his own slave, then got into a fight over Manny while he and Paige were still together. He's not your type, Ellie."

"What is my type, then? Marco, who was so utterly repulsed that he dropped girls entirely?" She knew the statement wasn't fair, but she didn't care. "Or maybe Sean, who would rather live with his alcoholic parents than spend another night with me? Spinner is a step up, Ashley. At least he actually likes me." Ashley rolled her eyes, but didn't bother fighting with her friend. 

"Here," she said from inside Ellie's closet. She tossed her some clothing. "Wear this. You'll look fantastic." It was a dress that Ellie had picked up at a second-hand shop some time ago--black, with a ruffled, uneven hemline, and hot pink trim. It was more revealing than her normal selections--in fact, she had planned to wear it over leggings and a gauzy top--but she knew Ashley was right, and that it would be something even Spinner would appreciate; slightly more sophisticated than her normal clothing, but still very her. She quickly pulled it on and twirled around in front of Ashley.

"Okay," she admitted. "So you have decent taste in clothes. Help me with my hair. I'm such a girl." She started yanking at it, trying to twist it into a bun. Ashley just laughed.

"Leave it down," she said. "You're not going to the prom or anything. It's a casual date. Do your regular makeup, maybe slightly more dramatic, and nothing special with your hair, or you'll scare him off entirely." Ellie knew she was right, and was therefore obediant. She added some fuscia eyeshadow to her normal repertoire, but beyond that, left everything the same. As she reached the door, she grabbed her leather coat and yanked on her boots. They made the outfit a little more casual, and brought out a little more of her style.

Spinner was early--something that impressed both Ellie and Ashley. Ellie didn't bother waiting for him to come to the door, instead she met him by his (beaten-up) car, leaving Ashley to get home in her own time. They'd already agreed to that arrangement, so it wasn't a big surprise.

Ellie gave him a quick kiss before hopping in the car. As he drove, she stared out the window and tried desperately to hold back her tears. 


	10. Chapter X

X

Spinner had picked out a surprisingly nice restaurant. Ellie decided that despite everything, he must have retained a little bit of Paige's training--after all, the Spinner she'd known before The Paige Reform had decidedly little class. He didn't even let out a yelp when she teased that she would order the most expensive items on the menu.

She ended up getting a salad and water. Spinner protested briefly, but she quickly shut him up. "I'm watching my figure," she said. "I would think you would want me to." He looked her up and down appreciatively and nodded.

"Fair enough, Freak Girl," he teased.

"Okay, if I'm Freak Girl, then you must be... Hormone Boy." And the nicknames stuck, at least briefly. They took turns feeding each other small bites, and Ellie had to struggle to stop the onset of Sean-related nostalgia. She forced him out of her mind (rather unsuccessfully at certain moments) and vowed to at the very least pretend to enjoy their night.

They finished up and Spinner paid for the meal, then took her hand and led her back to the car. "Next stop," he said, "my place. If you want. No one else is home. Not that we have to do anything. Unless you want to. I want to. But you probably don't."

Ellie laughed mechanically. "Let's go," she said. He happily obliged. It was only a five minute drive, and when they got there, he escorted her inside and took her coat. Thankfully, the dress was long sleeved--she wasn't exactly in the mood to be questioned about the cutting. She pushed him lightly onto the couch, hiked up her skirt and perched facing him on his lap. He grinned widely and leaned forward to kiss her.

They went on for a few minutes kissing and flirting. until Spinner glanced at his watch and groaned. "Mom and Kendra will be back soon," he said. "Can I take you out again sometime?"

Ellie pretended to think about it before breaking into a smile. "Of course," she said. "After all, the better we get to know each other, the less unfinished business we'll have." She gave him a flirtatious wink. She knew she wasn't really acting like herself, but it beat thinking about Sean--which of course she immediately did upon her realization that she hadn't been. "I'm free tomorrow, seeing as it will be a Saturday. And I still have my place for a few days. So come on over. I'll make you a meal or something." He nodded, trying to conceal his eagerness. Food and hot girls were a combination that was very much to his liking.

He drove her home and even escorted her to the door, where he received a very grateful good-night kiss. Ellie was continually surprised that the chivalry he'd learned from Paige still remained. Maybe she could make this work after all.

----------------------

Sean sat staring at the phone and willing himself to pick it up, yet at the same time, warning himself not to. He had no conscious plan of who he wanted to call, yet if he'd thought about it for a moment, he would have known that his fingers would go automatically to Ellie's number. He sighed and forced himself to pick up the receiver and dial Jay's number. He had to know what was going on.

Of course, there was no answer. Funny how things always work out that way. He supposed that should have been indication enough, but instead he punched in the number he knew by heart, but had almost forgotten.

"Hello?"

"Emma? It's Sean..." 


	11. Chapter XI

XI

"Sean? Wow. I didn't expect--how are you?" Emma was, quite frankly, stunned.

"I'm okay. Um, what about you?"

"Fine. Thanks. I--I'm a little surprised to hear your voice," she admitted. "I mean, the apology on the beach was nice and all, but I thought you'd want to stay away from us entirely. Not that you should. I mean..."

"Emma. Calm down, okay? I'm not calling to declare my undying love or anything like that, so don't worry." He hesitated. "So, um, how's Ellie doing?" His voice was decidedly too casual.

"Ellie?" Emma supposed she should have known what he was after. "We don't really know each other. But from what I hear, she had a date with Spinner tonight. So, I'd say she's doing well, which I'm sure you'll be happy to hear."

"Yeah. Uh, thanks." He threw his shoe at the door and made some more random noise. "Emma, sorry, I have to go. My parents are getting home." He hung up without waiting for a response.

--------------------

Ellie made them lasagna and a salad, and squares for dessert. She only picked at her portion of the meal, and chuckled as Spinner dove into seconds--and thirds. He did, however, wrinkle his nose and decline the salad.

When they were done with their main meal, Ellie dipped a finger into the icing on her square, took a lick, then narrowed her eyes slightly and held it toward him. He very happily did away with the remainder of the icing, not even complaining about Ellie germs, as he had the night before.

She hesitated, then brought her lips against his, and tugged at his shirt. He immediately grabbed her hands. "Okay, I can't believe I have to say this, but what are you doing? We've gone out once. Manny, I could expect this from. But you?" 

"Even you don't want me," Ellie said. "Of course. I just thought that since we'd known each other casually for awhile, it wouldn't be a big deal. But of course it is." She shook her head and turned away, and as she expected, he reached for her.

"If you don't mind, I don't mind," Spinner insisted. "Sorry. I'm still used to Paige. Hey, where are you going?" She was headed toward the kitchen, and ignored his question. She returned a moment later with a bottle of wine, and two glasses--regular ones, not wine glasses.

"Sorry," she said laughing. "It's the best I can do." He raised an eyebrow, but accepted the glass. "Before we do anything, though," she said, "we need to have the typical 'how likely are you to have an std' talk." She rolled her eyes. "If school taught me anything, it's that. So, I've been with Sean, who's been with Amy who had been with no one. Got checked out awhile ago and everything was fine. And for you, it's been Manny. Anyone else?"

He made a face that she couldn't quite read. "Not Manny," he admitted finally. "No one. But I swear if you tell anyone..."

"As if I would," Ellie said. She took a sip of the wine, then resumed kissing him. He didn't need much encouragement to reciprocate. In between kissing and nibbling (he seemed to have a strange fondness for her left ear) and drinking, she managed to tug his shirt off. Sean had been all muscle; Spinner was very obviously not. She tried unsuccessfully to shove the image of Sean out of her head. She hadn't been having much luck with that lately. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Wow," she said, pulling away from him. "It's late. Um, your parents might..." He glanced at the clock and groaned.

"Yeah. Great. Way to get my hopes up," he said.

"Friday, okay? And I'll see you in school, anyway. So that should help take care of the getting to know you thing. We'll see what happens." She picked his shirt off the floor and tossed it to him. "I promise."

"Is this about Sean?" he guessed. "Because he's gone. I'm your guy now. Your my girl, okay? Not his."

"It's about you," Ellie insisted, lying through her teeth without even realizing it. "If you get grounded, I don't see you for a week at least. And that just doesn't work for me. Come on, I'll walk you to your car." He hesitated, then nodded and pulled on his shirt. Ellie was careful to keep her eyes well above his waist.

He gave one longing look back at the couch before exiting. She forced herself to give him a peck on the cheek and a wave as he left, then headed back inside, shivering, and disgusted with herself. She poured herself another glass of wine and tried to forget. 


	12. Chapter XII

XII

Ellie woke up with a severe hangover. Up to that point, her mother had almost completely turned her off drinking in general. She'd had a very occasional cooler before, but nothing more, so the wine hadn't exactly agreed with her. She was more than thankful that it was a Sunday.

Ashley, of course, wanted all the details. She was on Ellie's front step within two minutes of getting out of church. She didn't even wait to get inside. "Spill," she said, the moment Ellie opened the door.

"There's not much to say," Ellie protested. "Friday, he took me out for a nice meal. Yesterday, I treated him to the same." Ashley rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to say? We got along well enough. It's not like we would do anything major after two nights."

"Uh huh," Ashley said. "Well, was he a total idiot? Did he force his tongue down your throat more than a dozen times?"

Ellie shook her head. "I'm not talking about it," she said. "He was a gentleman. That's all I need to say. Tell me about the wedding, instead. Sorry I couldn't make it. But from the sounds of things, your mom was more than happy not to have me there." 

"The wedding was a disaster," Ashley said. She continued talking and Ellie promptly used the opportunity to tune her out. Her head was pounding, and invasive questions were the last thing she needed. She was just glad Ashley hadn't picked up on anything to do with the alcohol. She eventually succeded in forcing the other girl home, or over to Craig's, or wherever it was that she went. Ellie was a touch beyond caring at that particular moment. She knew she should do some homework, but it seemed like too big a task. Instead she returned to the couch and flipped on the television.

-------------------

Ellie was fine. If Emma had said so, it must be true. A part of Sean was glad to hear it, of course, but a larger, jealous part, a part of himself that he hated, had hoped she was at least slightly miserable. Maybe love wasn't bitter, but he sure was.

He knew he had to deal with everything if he ever hoped to win her back. The past day, he'd let himself think about what had happened for a very brief window of time. He knew that in most cases, counselling would be appropriate, but he also knew that he could work through it himself. Sacrificing his independance would, in his case, only make things worse.

He'd kept all the articles he could find, although he never read most of them, or even looked at them for more than a brief moment. It was there that he started--with a picture of Rick, in fact. He'd cut out Rick's obituary, and tucked it among the other articles. He knew it was time to face the image--time to face the bitter reality of what he'd done.

He waited, as usual, until he was halfway along the length of the beach. He perched on a rock, took the crumpled paper out of his pocket, and finally, let his eyes rest on Rick's face. And he cried. He'd been doing a lot of that lately, but it never got any easier. He hated dealing with emotion--he supposed he and Ellie were alike that way--but he did it anyway. He knew if he didn't, it would continue to eat at him for an eternity.

He sat there until his tears subsided, then took one last look at the obituary. He approached the edge of the water and waited for a strong wind, then set the paper on his open palm, and let it flutter away into the water. He knew he wasn't healed--far from it--but it was a start. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he knew that one day, he would be okay.

---------------------

Ellie found herself back in Sauve's office first thing Monday morning as per their agreement. She mentioned the dates with Spinner, although left out the details, and Sauve raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Ellie said. "I did what told me. I moved on. Dated. Got involved with something other than my pitiful self. I thought you'd be happy."

"Are you?" Sauve asked quietly. She nodded when Ellie didn't respond. "That's what I thought. The point of this wasn't to please me, Ellie. It was to try and cheer you up a bit. You can't dive in head first. I wanted you to test the waters a little bit. Flirt, maybe. Go on one casual date. Or let your friends take you out somewhere. I didn't plan on you jumping into an immediate relationship. Admit it or not, two dates in the span of two days is not casual."

Ellie shrugged. "Should have been more clear then. I did exactly what you told me. I'm fine, okay? I don't need any more advice."

"Can I see your arms, then, please?" Ellie shook her head. "Didn't think so. If you're still feeling the need to hurt youtself, you're not fine." She glanced at her watch. "Wednesday at lunch, we'll see how you're doing. If nothing else, it will break up your latest relationship a little bit." Ellie rolled her eyes, but nodded. She grabbed her bag, headed to the bathroom, and did just what she wasn't supposed to do.

It was a good thing she did her own laundrey. 


	13. Chapter XIII

XIII 

Ellie spent the next few days transporting her things back home. Without Sean to help her, it wasn't easy. Spinner stepped in for a few minutes, but mainly, he was busy with school. They sat together at lunch, and exchanged occasional kisses, but their time alone was practically nil. This upset Spinner much more than it bothered Ellie. She would do what she had to in order to keep him, but that didn't mean she would like it.

She wondered vaguely why he was so important to her. She didn't even like him all that much. He was cute at times, but offered no intellectual stimulation, no fantastic kindness--he was simply ordinary. She pushed the thought away and convinced herself that she wasn't settling, that she liked him and he liked her, and nothing else mattered.

He very reluctantly helped her ferret-proof her room. She convinced him to crawl around on the floor with her only by offering him a handful of kisses in return. She knew he wanted to stay overnight, while her mom was still in rehab, but thankfully, his parents saved her the decision. They would, he informed her, kill him if he stayed out late on a school night. He promised that on Friday, things would be different. She wasn't a religious person--in fact, she was a strong atheist--but she was close to praying that she would find some way to get out of it when the time came. She knew she was in way over her head.

She stayed in her own house that night and hardly slept a wink. She knew she had to get used to being home again, but it was still hard. Memories hammered at her head, and for once, Sean wasn't her biggest concern. She double and triple checked the rooms for alcohol, and stashed what she found in her own. Her mother had a week left, but she wanted to be prepared.

Her appointment with Sauve that Wednesday followed much the same pattern as the rest. Ellie was evasive, Sauve prodding, and they agreed to meet again on Monday. Sauve was much more pleased about that particular aspect of their discussion than Ellie was.

Friday came far too soon.

---------------------------

She had invited him over with the sole intention of getting it over with. She'd 'borrowed' some of her mom's alcohol (she was officially moved back home now) for them, although Spinner very strangely declined. She, on the other hand, nearly drowned herself in it, starting even before he came, and hoping desperately that it would help her forget what she was doing. She knew he wouldn't force her to sleep with him, but she also knew that after her advances the previous week, if she didn't, there might be problems. Besides, it was easier to do it now than later.

She led him up to her room, which he surveyed with some interest. It certainly wasn't a typical girl's room. It was decorated mostly in shades of grey, with red blankets on her bed, a red lamp, and red doors leading into the hall and bathroom. It was scrupulously neat, and Bueller slept in his cage in the corner. "This is it," Ellie said.

He nodded his approval. "Well, Ellie, I'm impressed. It isn't all about the clothes with you. You're actually serious about this Freak Girl stuff." He smiled, and she pulled him down on the bed.

"And I'm impressed, too," she said. "Impressed that you convinced your mother you were staying with Jimmy tonight, despite him still being in the hospital. Impressed that Hormone Boy here doesn't just talk the talk." She felt vaguely drunk, but not to the point where her speech was slurred--at least not yet. She took another gulp of alcohol, this time vodka straight from the bottle. "Mmm," she said. "Sure you won't have some? It's mom's favorite." Spinner took a small sip then tossed the bottle away, spraying alcohol across the room.

"Oops," he said, kissing her hard on the mouth. "Sorry." It was the most insincere apology she'd ever heard, save for those from her mom. She pushed him away.

"Great." Her voice had a dangerous edge to it. "Bueller generally gets the run of my room. Thanks a lot. Now I have to watch out for signs of drunk ferret." She rolled her eyes.

"Ellie," he said, pouting slightly. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'll clean it up after." He gave her his patented puppy-dog eyes, and despite herself, she felt some very slight affection for him. She let him push her back down on the bed.

He was soon back on top of her, covering her lips with his own and tugging on her shirt. She peeled it off, leaving her arm warmers in place. He reached for them, but she shook her head. "I have to be at least a little bit me," she said. She simply wasn't ready for him to see her cuts--didn't know if she ever would be. It was weird, she thought later, that she was much more willing to share what was traditionally private, than she was her arms. She knew, without quite knowing it, that they would have blown everything to pieces.

Spinner and Sean were complete opposites. Sean had been self-assured and careful to please her, whereas Spinner seemed to be trying to get through it just for the sake of saying he did, and, of course, for a few personal reasons as well. He left early the next morning, promising to be back later that day. She didn't have to guess what he'd be looking for.


	14. Chapter XIV

XIV

Sean had been thinking of her that night, as usual, not knowing that miles away, she was lying naked beside Spinner with tears in her eyes, and trying to block out the sound of his snoring. He wouldn't have in his wildest dreams imagined that she would be the one to choose sex for comfort.

His parents had stayed sober that night, and the day before. To their credit, they were trying. They'd been having more success lately, and perhaps it was a product of his success in dealing with everything. He'd started speaking to them again, saying hello in the mornings, and asking how their day had gone, and while it wasn't a lot, it was something. He knew that if what Emma had said was true--and he'd never known her to lie--he had to move on, for Ellie's sake if not his own. 

Too bad it wasn't that easy.

--------------------

True to his word, Spinner returned the next afternoon, flowers in hand. "Here," he said. "I might as well spoil you. You sure spoiled me last night." She tried to smile and thank him, and was grateful that he wasn't particularly perceptive. 

"I got everything cleaned up last night," she offered. "And no drunk Bueller. Sorry I freaked out about it."

"Mmm," he said, already finding her neck with his lips. She pulled away after a moment, and he gave her an annoyed look. "What is it? Aren't I doing it right?" He looked downright hurt.

"You're fine. It's not you," she said. "Honest. It's me. I'm just weird. Freak Girl, and all that." She laughed nervously. "You were great. I'm just tired from the excitement." She was, of course, lying through her teeth. He'd arrived earlier than expected, and she hadn't had time to get herself sufficiently drunk. She'd barely even managed to mark her regret on her arms.

"Well, I'll have to wake you up," he said, reaching for her once more. She supposed it was his way of flirting, and she had a hard time not rolling her eyes. She gave in and let him kiss her and touch her and whatever other awkwardness he wanted.

He soon started tugging at her shirt and it was then that she realized she'd worn long sleeves instead of armwarmers. She blinked in dismay, then let him pull the shirt over her head. She had prepared herself as best as she could, but his reaction stunned her.

His face twisted into a picture of utter disgust. "Gross!" he said. "The rumours were true, then. That's just--it's sick. I can't believe you let me sleep with you without telling me. It's sick, man." He was shaking his head frantically.

"Spinner, please." Ellie was desperate. "It doesn't change anything. I'm still yours."

"I don't want you," he said. "And I don't know how Sean would. But doing that to yourself, it's disgusting. And doing it while you're with me? And not even telling me?" He had inched toward the door and now ducked out, slamming it behind him. She wanted to follow him, but knew it was pointless, and instead sank down to the ground, half naked, her head in her hands.

She was in the same position when the door creaked open.

"Mom?" Ellie was stunned to see her.

"Eleanor! I came home early to surprise you..." It was then that she noticed just what Ellie was wearing--or, perhaps, not wearing. "What are you doing? Why are you dressed like a little slut? Eleanor, answer me."

"Mom, I'm sorry, it's not what it looks like. I just--"

"I don't want to hear it. A fine homecoming this is. Guess I can see why you wanted to stay with Sean so badly. It had nothing to do with me, did it?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Go to your room." Ellie hesitated, then obeyed, clutching her arms tight against her body. Her mother was helpful enough to give her a hard shove toward the stairs.

She was careful letting herself into the room, not wanting Bueller to escape. She kept him in his cage only very rarely. It took her a minute to locate him--he was on top of her book case--and when she did, she plucked him into her arms. He was all, it seemed, that she had left. He put up with it for a moment or two before wiggling his way to freedom.

She sighed and grabbed her cell phone. Her minutes had almost run out, but she had enough left for one call. It took her a minute to realize that she didn't even know the phone number of the guy she'd slept with. She dug through her papers and eventually discovered it--left over from a math project she'd been forced into with him some time before. She quickly punched in the numbers and crossed her fingers that he would pick up. He did.

"Hello?" he said, his mouth full.

"Spin? It's Ellie. Please don't hang up, okay? I have to talk to you. Please." She still didn't quite know why she was so desperate for his affection.

He sighed audibly and swallowed the food in his mouth, then took another bite. "What is it?" he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, okay? I should have told you. I thought--I thought you'd find it kinky," she said finally, searching for an excuse.

He laughed humourlessly, and she cringed, imagining the food spewing out of his mouth. "It's disgusting," he said. "But whatever. If I don't have to see it again, we're cool, okay? Just for god's sake, keep your arm thingies on. I don't need to see that."

"I will," she promised. "And I'm really, really sorry. I need you, okay? You're everything to me. You're my Hormone Boy."

"Monday at lunch, then," he said. "I'll save you a seat, Freak Girl. Bring me some of those leftovers. They were good--almost as good as you."

"It's a deal," Ellie promised. She hung up the phone, a big smile on her face, and found her x-acto knife.

---------------------

She was grounded for a week, and her mother had already reintroduced herself to the alcohol. She explained it to Ellie while in a drunken stupor.

"See, Eleanor," she said, her words slurred, "if I don't drink some, it's still controlling me. 'Cause a few drinks mean nothing, they mean I'm in control. I can stop any time. And 'sides, you make me do this. My husband leaves me to deal with my worthless slut of a daughter. Now this place is a mess. Get cleaning." She giggled, then stumbled onto the couch, tossing her feet up high above her head. "Ha! Ha, Eleanor, did you see that?"

Ellie ignored her, knowing that nothing she said would matter anyway. She reached down to cover her mother with a blanket, and she was promptly slapped hard across the face. "Eleanor, I asked you a question! I'm your mother, you have to answer me." Ellie paled visibly--her mom had been bad before rehab, but not like this.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I--I love you. I--what you did, jumping onto the couch like that, it was, um, cool." She needn't have bothered. Her mother had already passed out in a pool of her own vomit.

"Great," Ellie said softly, finding the mop. "Just great." Suddenly the scars from earlier that day were no where near enough. She was hardly able to finish cleaning before retreating to her room, and continuing the familiar pattern.

It took all she had not to go dangerously deep. She pushed just hard enough to make them gape without making them bleed indefinitely. She'd become quite skilled at it, knowing just how much pressure she could get away with. When she ran out of room, she'd switch to her upper arms, her legs, over old scars--whatever she could find. She was bent on the total self-destruction that kept her alive. 


	15. Chapter XV

XV

Sauve was not impressed. "Okay," she said. "Let me get this straight. You cut yourself this time because your boyfriend of a week broke up with you because you cut yourself and didn't tell him before you slept with him?"

Ellie nodded innocently.

"Nice try," the counsellor said, rolling her eyes. "Why don't you tell me what really happened, and, for that matter, where that nice blue bruise came from. Concealer can only do so much."

"Okay, then, I was abducted by aliens," Ellie said. This time it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Seriously? I'm clumsy. I tripped over my own feet and slammed into the doorway. I'm still not good in high heels. And as for the cutting, it's under control. No worse than it was. I mean, you saw my arms. If anything, I've cut down--really bad pun intended."

Sauve gave her a hard look, then nodded. "But our deal still stands. Frequent appointments, no skipping, or I'll do what I have to." She glanced at her appointment book. "Thursday, third period okay?" Ellie nodded. "I'll see you then. And next time, please don't waste so much time telling me lies."

"Sorry." Ellie had to work to keep the smirk off her face.

---------------------

Sean knew, even if his parents didn't, that it was time to think about school again. He was sixteen, and therefore not legally required to attend, but if he wanted some semblance of his life back, he had to force himself to go.

They had a car sitting in the yard, and he soon discovered why they never used it. With his skill, however, a few repairs were all it needed. He neglected to mention its new-found life to his parents, however, but he was back on the road, much to his delight. He realized later that while working on the car, he'd been genuinely happy, despite everything that had happened. The thought gave him unexpected chills.

With no particular plan in mind, he cruised around, trying to locate the local school. He finally found it and pulled into the parking lot, then headed to the front office and waited patiently to speak with the principal. It didn't take long for her to arrive.

"Can I help you?" she said, giving him a funny look.

"I'm here to register," he said. "I know it's the middle of the year, but I sort of... transferred." Her face twisted in the oddest expression he'd seen in awhile, and to his dismay, he realized that she was trying to suppress a laugh.

"You want WB High," she said. "It's down the road. This is an elementary school. I knew we should have gotten the new sign up." He turned bright red--he'd always been a blusher, much to Ellie's delight--and offered a stammering apology before bolting out of the building. He was surprised he had retained his desire to figure out the school thing at all.

The next meeting went substantially better. The principal--a pleasant older woman--arranged for his records to be sent from Degrassi, and helped him figure out his schedule. They agreed that he would start the next day in order to give them both time to get everything arranged. On his way out, she asked if he had any more questions.

"Um, one, actually," he said. "But not school related. Are there any pet shops around here? It's been awhile since I, uh, went shopping, so I don't know what there is."

The principal was, of course, baffled, but pointed out the window. "Down there," she said. "Take a right, then a sharp left, then another right. But, Sean, is it? I have to admit I'm more than a little surprised." She chuckled slightly. "Not that that's a problem."

He nodded and thanked her, then returned to his car and carefully followed her directions.

Damn he missed that weasel. 

----------------------

Her mother was waiting for her when Ellie got home, and there was alcohol on her breath. She gestured at something on the table, and Ellie knew there would be trouble. 

"You are a slut," her mother said. "Guess you don't just dress like one. Used condom, and birth control pills. Really classy, Eleanor."

"You went snooping through my room?" Ellie was sufficiently enraged that she neglected to consider the consequences of her outburst. "How dare you?"

"I was shoving that disgusting rodent back in there. If you'd been more responsible, I wouldn't have had to. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She narrowed her eyes and took a step toward Ellie, who was more concerned about Bueller than herself.

"If you did anything to him," she began. She never got a chance to finish. She felt a hard blow against her head, and off-balance, tumbled to the ground and curled up into a tiny ball. Her mother gave her one last kick in the ribs then left the room and poured herself a drink as if it had never happened.

It took Ellie a moment to realize what had gone on. Her mother had never gone that far before--in fact, before the previous day, had only ever hit her once. She dragged her body up off the ground, keeping one eye on the woman in the next room, then darted up the stairs and shoved Bueller into his travel cage. She didn't even bother to get a coat or change her boots into something more comfortable before leaving the house.

She knew the number by heart without having ever called it. It was slightly harder than that to find enough dimes and nickels for the payphone. She scoured her pockets and the steet, and came up with just enough. It was the third ring before anyone picked up.

"Sean? Sean, please, I'm scared. I need you." 


	16. Chapter XVI

I'm substantially less than happy with the quality of this chapter, but decided to post it anyway. So be farwarned, it's not particularly brilliant, and will likely be up for some major revision eventually. If I ever, you know, become less lazy.

XVI

He had imagined their conversation a dozen different ways, but never like this. He could hear the tremor in her voice--something she had always hid very well, even at her most frightened--and he knew she was in trouble.

"Where are you?" he asked quietly.

"I'm near The Dot. Sean, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. Forget about it. I just--it was stupid. I'm sorry." She was reaching to hang up when she heard his voice.

"Ellie. Stay there, okay? I'm on my way. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just please stay there." She couldn't think of an answer, so she hung up.

Sean looked blankly at the phone, not expecting to hear the dial tone. He shook his head slightly, found his keys, and left a note for his parents. The days were getting shorter and it was already starting to get dark, but he'd certainly driven at night before. He just hoped Ellie would wait for him.

-------------------

She knew Spinner was working his shift that night at The Dot Restaurant, so she stayed outside, shivering in her thin, long-sleeved shirt. She sat on a bench nearby, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

It took a good hour for Sean to arrive. Ellie couldn't even look at him, and instead hopped into the back of the car despite his offer of the front seat. They were silent the entire trip, save for a brief thank-you from Ellie.

When they arrived, Sean took Bueller into his room, then returned to Ellie and tried to meet her eyes. She wouldn't let him. "Ellie, we need to talk," he said.

She nodded. "The beach. So we won't disturb your parents." She knew she was only putting off the inevitable. He had found an extra sweater and although it was miles too big, she wrapped herself in it gratefully, trying not to breathe in his scent.

She found a large rock to sit on--unbeknownst to her, it was one of Sean's favorite spots to think--and picked up a small stick, then began to doodle in the sand, staring down intently as if drawing were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Ellie had never been good at breaking awkward silences, so once more, the task fell to Sean. "What happened?" His voice was quiet, his back to her. He knew that if he faced her, she would only shrug and refuse to speak.

"I don't want to talk about it. Look, I shouldn't have called you, Sean. I'm sorry. You made it clear that you didn't want to hear from us, and I should have respected that. As usual, Ellie Nash screws things up." Her voice was bitter, and she wasn't going for pity or reassurances--she meant every word.

He shook his head. "Ellie, it was a shock. I just--I never wanted to hurt you. I shouldn't have stuck you with the rent. I regret that. But I couldn't go back either. It would have hurt us both. And Ellie, we can't do this. Not now. I came for you because I care. But neither of us are ready for this."

She swallowed hard, and as he turned to face her, gave a small nod. "I shouldn't have called," she said again. "You can take me back there, okay? You don't need this right now."

"Ellie, we're not children. Stay the night. I'll take the couch, you can have my room, and I'll take you back in the morning. It's obvious you don't want to be there, and that means I don't want you there. I still--I still love you. It just..."

She nodded again, then shivered. Her hair was tossed around in the cold wind, and more than ever, Sean wanted her--needed her. But he couldn't. They couldn't. And he knew it.

"Come on," he said finally. "You need sleep and so do I." He headed down the beach and toward his trailer without waiting to see if Ellie would follow.

She didn't. She waited until he was out of sight before heading in the same direction. She wasn't particularly interested in having another conversation with him, and forced herself to remember that she had a boyfriend now--and it wasn't Sean.

When she got inside, he was already on the couch with his back to her. She assumed he must have already fallen asleep. He hadn't--in fact, he was staring at the wall and trying to keep himself under control--but he hid it well.

She sighed and found his room, where she fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of razors and alcohol and condoms and pain.

He found her in the bathroom the next morning, surrounded by a pool of her own blood, his razor by her hand.


	17. Chapter XVII

XVII

Ellie woke up with absolutely no sense of where she was. Her whole body ached, and bit by bit the events of... the night before? the week before? earlier that day? came flooding back. She immediately wished she'd been content in her ignorance.

"Welcome back." The voice was quiet, and all too familiar. Ellie groaned. "The school sent me. I didn't have any appointments set up for a few hours, and the doctors thought it would be good if I came."

"Great," Ellie said. "I land in the hospital and get to see my guidance counsellor all in the same day. Woohoo."

"Wish you could have called me first," Sauve said. "Or told me that your mom was back home, for that matter." She sighed. "You're back close to Degrassi. They transported you here after you were stable. The hospital in Wasaga isn't exactly well-equipped in the psychiatry department."

"And Sean?" The question popped out before she could stop it.

"Saved your life. Called 911 and they got you out of there nice and quickly. Presumably, he's back home now." Her voice displayed no emotion, but she watched Ellie carefully for her response.

"You should get back to the school," Ellie said. "And I should get home. It's been fun, but I have things I should be doing." Sauve raised an eyebrow. "Damnit," Ellie continued. "Don't do that. Try as I might, I suck at the eyebrow thing. Way to rub it in my face." She laughed self-consciously.

"I find it hard to believe that you haven't guessed that the doctors want to keep you in here for a bit. But you're right--I should be getting back to the school. They'll send someone else in to talk to you soon." She stood and left before Ellie could protest.

Ellie took the opportunity to look around. The room was cramped and bland, and aside from the bed, an over-stuffed chair, and a small dresser, it was empty. The walls were an off-white, the sheets beige, and the dresser and ugly green. It was less than cheerful.

A few minutes later, as Sauve had promised, a doctor entered the room. He was short, fat, and balding, and Ellie immediately disliked him--not because of his appearance, but because of the very fact of his being. She shot him a defiant look, which he pointedly ignored.

"Eleanor Nash?" he said, checking her chart. "Is that right?"

"Ellie."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"Nope." She gave him an obviously fake smile and he let out a small laugh.

"Fair enough," he said. "Bad question, I guess. So let me try again. Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"No, I just thought Sean's bathroom needed some color, and I couldn't find any paint." She rolled her eyes. "God, if that's all you need to do to become I shrink, I'm over-qualified. Of course I was trying to kill myself."

He shrugged. "I had to ask. You've cut yourself before. It could have been an accident." Too late, she saw her way out. She didn't even bother trying. It was much more entertaining to be obnoxious, anyway.

"Right," she said. "Because everytime I cut, I trace my veins in ball-point pen to make them easier to find when my arms are covered in blood. That's it. Really, I swear. I'm just too stupid to know what 'too deep' looks like. I thought that if I, oh I don't know, opened my veins up, that I would live happily ever after." She offered him another condescending smile, then rolled over in the bed, clearly done talking. He waited for a moment, then scribbled something into her file, and left the room. It was only then that she wondered what had happened to Bueller.

--------------------

Sean sat staring at the wall of his room, absently playing tug-of-war with the ferret. He had no idea if he'd done everything right or everything wrong or some combination of the two. His plan of school that day had gone to hell, and he was surprised to find himself even thinking about it.

He supposed he should have known to hide his razor, but he had genuinely believed Emma when she said Ellie was okay. And he supposed he should have seen differently, noticed the tears etched into her cheeks the night before, or her uncertainty when she passed him on the couch, or the fact that at some point, she had snuck Bueller's cage out beside the couch. He had a million regrets, yet he wondered if any one of them would have made a difference, or if she would have found a way no matter what.

To leave her in the hospital had broken his heart. He'd ridden in the ambulance with her, but when they transferred her, he'd returned home. He'd had to pull over twice, too blinded by tears to see the road. She needed him. She'd said as much when he called her, and he had let her down.

He knew he wasn't being fair to himself, that he couldn't be her hero, but it didn't stop the guilt. Blood, again. Always with the blood. It haunted every recess of his mind.

The bathroom floor was stained. He'd scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to eliminate her essence, but traces of her still remained. He didn't know how he would face it--he'd gone to the bathroom in the woods rather than staring at the tiles--although his parents hadn't even noticed the difference. They'd slept through the ambulance, vomited without noticing the stained tiles, and hadn't even bothered to wonder where Sean had gone, or why he had a funny looking critter in his room. As usual, they were completely oblivious to what their son most needed.

Staring up at the ceiling, Sean gathered Bueller into his arms. "I need you," he whispered, his voice breaking. 


	18. Chapter XVIII

XVIII

Someone evidently saw fit to mention Ellie's condition to Spinner. He arrived at the hospital shortly after school let out. Ellie had been tormented by other therapists throughout the day, but had quickly discovered that refusal to talk, or even look at them, soon made them leave her alone.

He came baring schoolwork, which he unceremoniously dumped on her bed before shifting nervously from foot to foot. She finally stared him down.

"Ellie," he said. 

"Spinner."

"Uh... nice bandages?" She was wrapped in gauze from her elbows down.

"Just get it over with Spin, please. In fact, don't even bother. I get it. You want to break up. Consider yourself relieved of responsibility." She had to work to keep the animosity out of her voice.

"Ellie, I don't want to break up with you, okay? You tried to kill yourself, that's all. That's like, normal or something. The other thing, that's gross. But I can deal with the whole suicide thing or whatever. And I mean, I won't have to see it or anything, so it's no big deal."

She looked up at him smiling slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah. So who found you, anyway?" He held a certain morbid curiosity that he had no problem trying to satisfy.

"Um, just someone. I don't know. They didn't really tell me." She didn't figure that mentioning Sean would be a brilliant idea--especially since Sean had already made it clear things were over between them. "So, come here, don't I get a kiss?" Spinner was happy to oblige.

"I can't wait until I get out of here," Ellie continued. "They think I'm nuts, and they're not afraid to show it. I miss having alone time that isn't quite alone, if you know what I mean." Spinner, of course, didn't. "I mean alone with you, Hormone Boy."

"Oh." He still looked vaguely confused, but Ellie had grown accustomed to that. "Well, I can't wait until you're out either. But they told me five minutes, so I should go." He bent down and gave her another rough kiss, then left. Ellie resumed staring at the wall.

A few minutes later, a woman cleared her throat and Ellie jumped in surprise, and rolled over. A young woman had entered the room and was standing there and Ellie wondered just how long she'd been watching her. Ellie shot her a disgruntled look.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." The woman was plain--not pretty or ugly--with the standard brown hair and brown eyes. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about her, although she wore a friendlier smile than most of the other people Ellie had seen that day. "I'm Dr. Cavanaugh. I'm a friend of Chantel's--um, Ms. Sauve's. She thought I might be able to help you better than some of the other doctors in here." Ellie stared at her blankly and the psychiatrist took a seat.

"When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen," she said. "We have about an hour right now, although I can stretch that if need be. So, if you have something you'd like to say, I'm all ears."

Ellie was silent, fully expecting that after five minutes, as had happened with the other doctors, the psychiatrist would pester her with questions and then leave in disgust. This particular instance, however, broke the pattern.

They sat in absolute silence for precisely one hour before Dr. Cavanaugh left the room without so much as a goodbye. Ellie, despite herself, was somewhat intrigued. She had grown accustomed to having everyone give in to exactly what it was she wanted, or at least close to it, and she wasn't entirely pleased with the new turn of events. Her mind was working over-time, wondering just what the doctor was planning or thinking or if she was just plain nuts--more so than Ellie herself. She glared up at the ceiling, increasingly uncomfortable.

There were yellow stickers on some of the tiles. She had no idea what they were for, but they piqued her interested. They were plain and round and seemingly useless, but they distracted her briefly from everything else. Funny how three little stickers can make the rest of the world seem so insignificant.

Aside from being checked on by a nurse every ten minutes, Ellie was left alone until it was suppertime. To her dismay, Dr. Cavanaugh returned with her meal.

"You won't talk to us," she said, "so we talked to your friends. They mentioned that you haven't been eating well lately. Since you won't tell us what's going on, we have to assume the worst, and make sure you consume your daily quotient of calories."

Ellie, still thinking of only one thing, forgot her vow to remain silent. "Those yellow dots on the ceiling," she said, "what are they?"

To her credit, Dr. Cavanaugh was quick to cover her surprise at Ellie's sudden inquiries. "They're there to get the patients to talk to us," she said. "They emit electronic impulses that completely mess with your brain waves." She grinned. "Frankly, I haven't the foggiest idea. You're the first person who has ever asked."

She passed over the tray, which Ellie eyed with disgust. "Please tell me that's not supposed to be pizza," she said. She'd already amended her vow to talking, but only about irrelevant things.

"Can't do that, I'm afraid. But don't worry, I have to eat the same thing. Not supposed to leave here even on my breaks. Besides, I thought you'd enjoy it more than, um, baked bean mush or spinach soup."

Ellie started to joke back, then remembered where she was and abruptly shoved the pizza into her mouth. After she chewed and swallowed, she gave the counsellor a challenging glare.

"So what other lies did my friends tell you? Did they say I was obsessive-compulsive? Maybe schizophrenic? They seem to love playing doctor. Paige especially. If she'd minded her own business in the beginning..." She realized too late that this was, in all likelyhood, what Dr. Cavanaugh had been hoping for. Way to go, Ellie, she thought. Playing right into her hands. She pasted a bland smile on her lips. 

"The eyebrow thing," the doctor said, "I can't do it either." Ellie was naturally very confused. "You mentioned it to Chantel. One of the few things you did say. She tends to rub it in when we're chatting." She smiled broadly. "Of course, I am guilty of mentioning my supreme yoga abilities more than occasionally." This time, Ellie downright glared. "Okay, so you're not one for small talk. Consider it my pathetic attempt at using my training to make you feel more comfortable. So, since you seem to like the direct approach, want to tell me why you did what you did?" Ellie shook her head, lips firmly together. "Okay. I can't force you. But you won't get out of here until we get this thing figured out. I'm sure you knew that already, though."

Ellie did. She just didn't care. After all, where could she go? Sean was over. Home was over. Spinner was Spinner. And Ellie was alone. 


	19. Chapter XIX

Not happy with this chapter at all. I'm feeling a little stuck right now. Hopefully I'll get it figured out by the next update.

* * *

XIX

It was obvious to Ellie that everyone had missed the point. Early that evening, her mother arrived in her room, a smile even faker than Ellie's pasted on her lips.

"Eleanor, darling! You gave me quite a scare."

Ellie wasn't in the mood to play games. "I'm sure," she said, her voice cold. "Now, would that be after your third drink, or before your fifth, that you started to notice I was missing?"

"Ellie! Show some respect. This isn't about me. Why would you do that?" Her mother was clearly indignant that Ellie had the nerve to be less than a pathetic, whimpering bundle of bones.

"This is about you," Ellie said. "Not entirely, but no, you can't get out of it that easily. You've made my life miserable, mom. I'm supposed to be the child, not you." She gave her mom a pleading look, which Mrs. Nash ignored.

"I don't have to stand here and listen to this shit," she said. "I thought you'd be happy to see me. Guess I was wrong." She turned on her heel and abruptly left the room, leaving Ellie staring after her, and biting her lip to keep the tears at bay.

Dr. Cavanaugh had apparently been outside the room for the entire exchange. "Nice woman," she said quietly, taking a seat. "She always treat you that well?"

"She's my mother," Ellie said, as if it were an answer.

The doctor nodded slightly. "And that makes it okay?"

"She's family. If even she can't love me, who will?" Ellie hated herself. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to stop herself from blurting out random pieces of information. "I'm not talking about this. Not talking about any of it. Just leave me alone. Please." She'd been reduced to begging, a fact that she wasn't happy about.

"I can't. You know that. And more importantly, I won't. Ellie, it's obvious you're miserable. You've said as much with your arms. But things won't change if you don't let us help you." The doctor was patient but firm, but Ellie shrugged it off, and once more, turned to face the wall.

"That's not going to work this time." The words took Ellie by surprise. She had fully expected to repeat their routine of earlier that day--was, in fact, almost looking forward to it for purposes of amusement. "I can't force you to talk. But I'm not just going to sit here in silence while you gloat or feel sorry for yourself, or whatever it is that you're doing. No one's trying to belittle your pain. But this not talking thing, it doesn't work for me. If I have to, I'll spend the hour--or however long I have before they check me in here right beside you--talking to myself. But I'm not going to sit here in silence." Ellie sighed and rolled back over.

"Look," she said. "I don't hate you. I'm just not interested in doing any of this right now."

"Doesn't matter," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "You land yourself in here, and you don't really get much choice in the matter. Tough love and all that fun stuff."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "I'm tired," she said. "Can I please just get some sleep?" The fact that she was wide awake, and it was barely nine o'clock, did not elude her. Dr. Cavanaugh, however, had little choice but to allow her some rest. She yanked the curtains closed, then warned her a nurse would be in every few minutes to check on her. Ellie had already rolled over, the tears running silently down her cheeks. She desperately wanted out of there and away from everything.

-------------------------

Sean woke up early the next morning, before his buzzer had a chance to sound. He had promised himself the day before that he would return to school, no matter what happened, and he intended to do so. He made sure Bueller was fed, and quickly showered and got cleaned up. He'd finally faced the bathroom the afternoon before, and it was already easier--he kept his eyes up, and he could almost forget what had happened.

He skipped shaving that morning, as he had the day before. He couldn't face a razor--hadn't even bought a new one yet--and he certainly couldn't use the same one as before. He had disposed of it--thrown it away, to be precise, because he didn't know what else to do with it. A small part of him wanted to keep the thing, but he knew if he did, he'd be in worse trouble than he was after the shooting. It was that forced him into the bathroom, forced the razor into the garbage, and forced him to google ways of cleaning blood stains on the computer at the local library.

He drove himself to school and tried to numb his brain from the images of the morning before. He wasn't successful. He was haunted by the thought of her, the way her clothes were stained and her hair stuck together because she'd laid one of her hands near her head.  
He'd gotten rid of his own clothes. They'd been, as well. He'd held her until the ambulance came, begging her to wake up, to talk to him, anything, just so he'd know she was okay. He hadn't seen her since the ride to the hospital. He'd called, and they told her she'd woken up, but that was all. He hadn't called since.


	20. Chapter XX

XX

Ellie was slightly more subdued the next day. This time, she had been escorted to the psychiatrist's office, which alone made her feel somewhat less trapped. She was still dressed in a hospital gown--or, rather, two hospital gowns--which they had at some point changed her into while she was still unconscious. She wondered what had happened to her own clothes and felt a slight bit of regret, as she had been wearing one of her favorite shirts. It wasn't until she sat down and pulled her hair over her face that she noticed the dried blood in it. It hit her suddenly, and she had to struggle to keep herself from vomiting.

Dr. Cavanaugh noticed her reaction, but didn't comment. Instead she offered a welcoming smile and leaned back in her chair and propped her feet on the edge of the desk, arms behind her head. 

"Welcome to my parlour, said the spider to the fly." Ellie wrinkled up her face in vague condescension, and the doctor laughed. "Come on. I can tell you want to be here about as much as Saddam wants to be in American custody. But I have a deal for you. Today, we'll make things easy. I won't ask you the hard questions, and you won't clam up. Just tell me about school, or your pet, or whatever you want. I want you to feel comfortable before forcing the matter."

Ellie hesitated, then nodded. "Okay," she said. She was, although she would never admit it, somewhat relieved that the doctor had given her an out. "Bueller," she said quietly. "Is he--is Sean taking care of him?" Ellie had difficulty saying Sean's name, but to her relief, the doctor nodded. "Okay," Ellie said again. She searched her brain, trying to think of a topic of conversation.

"School," Dr. Cavanaugh prompted her. "Tell me about it. Or your friends, or your aspirations, or your favorite music. Anything."

"I like computers," Ellie said finally. "I mean, you'd never know it, but I'm kind of a computer dork. I'm taking Media Immersion, and I didn't have to. Computer programming, html, all of that interests me. But I don't want to make a career of it or anything. I'd much rather do something with film--direct maybe, or arrange actual shows or movies." She looked up shyly and met the doctor's eyes for the first time.

Dr. Cavanaugh nodded. "Those are good goals," she said. "Go on."

"Um. My friend Ashley. She's going out with a guy who cheated on her last year. I worry about her, but it's not like I can force her to dump him. And Marco--my other friend--he's having a good year, I think, which is nice. He deserves it." She was aware that she was babbling on about useless things, but even talking about her own relationships with her friends felt too personal.

"I worked with Caitlin Ryan last year, which was awesome," Ellie said. "I mean, it was mostly behind the scenes, although she gave me an occasional two-minute segment, but I was more comfortable behind the camera anyway. Well, not really behind it, but behind the people who were behind the people who were behind the cameras. And I even got paid for it. Blew all my money on clothes and gifts and Bueller, but it was a great experience, as cliched as that may sound. It was hard sometimes, but worth it." She looked down, embarrassed. "Sorry. I'm rambling on about myself."

"That's kind of the point," Dr. Cavanaugh reminded her. "You talk, I listen, and occasionally forget my manners and give you some sort of university-induced advice. You're doing fine. I mean, I'd rather you be telling me just why you're feeling so poorly, but it's probably comforting for you to know that I'm not getting what I want."

Ellie cracked a small smile in spite of herself. "It started by accident, almost," she said slowly. "The cutting, I mean. I just, I did it before I even realized it. I don't even know where I got the idea. I'd never heard of it before. Since then, all of the sudden it's become right popular, but I just kind of did it." She closed her mouth firmly for a moment, and the doctor waited to see if she would choose to continue. "I--I can't believe I said that," Ellie admitted with a self-conscious laugh.

"It's a big part of your life," Dr. Cavanaugh said quietly. "Whether you like it or not, the cutting--and now this suicide attempt--will affect every corner of your life for a long time to come. The cutting is an addiction, and the other one is huge. It's life changing, even though you didn't succeed. Think about it, for a moment. Human nature values the survival instinct above all. If you're in a place where something supercedes that, it's pretty major." 

Ellie hesitated, absorbing the words, then nodded somewhat reluctantly.

"How did you feel when you were doing it? What where you thinking about?" The question was gentle, and the tone no different than if she were asking about the weather. 

Ellie shook her head. "You said no hard questions. I'm not answering that." Part of her wanted to--wanted to get it all out in the open and off her mind. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't talk about how she had had to continually convince herself not to scream or run and get help. She didn't know how she could possibly relate such intimate details to a total stranger.

Dr. Cavanaugh waited a moment and then sighed. "You did fine," she said. "And you're right, I did say that. Therapy is hard work. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Why don't I take you back to your room for a bit and you can rest. You're probably still pretty weak. Maybe in an hour or so we can get you cleaned up, too." Ellie stood up without responding, and as promised, the doctor delivered her to her room. Ellie reached for the remote, flipped through the channels and settled on one of the infomercials that by now, she had nearly memorized. 


	21. Chapter XXI

XXI

Sean had been told that WB High had no shop or auto classes, but it didn't really sink in until he got to school. After stopping by the office and explaining his absence the day before (which warrented raised eyebrows, but reluctant acceptance), he was escorted to his first class (French), and introduced to the teacher, Mlle. Deslauriers. Sean had taken some French back in Toronto, but he soon discovered just how little he actually knew.

"Bienvenu, Sean, vouliez-vous prennez votre place, s'il-vous-plaît?" Sean looked at her, eyebrows raised and mouth gaping slightly.

"Um... No habla anglais?" He was well aware of what he'd said, but he desperately hoped it would get him a laugh. It did--and, for that matter, a friendly smile.

"Sean, you can take your seat," the teacher said. She pointed to a chair near the front of the room. "Don't worry, you'll catch up quickly, I'm sure. And if you don't, well, I'm sure your classmates will tell you that I'll be on your back until you do." Sean couldn't help but grin back. He had expected the first day--and the first class in particular--to be much more difficult. He'd thought that the memories would overwhelm him the instant he entered the halls, yet even being aware that they hadn't didn't automatically bring them to mind. He sat down and pulled out a pen and paper. It was the last time that period that he wasn't completely confused.

Within the next hour, the teacher piled about a dozen work sheets on his desk, and asked him to stay after class, which he did. "Ton livre," she said, handing him a textbook. He at least knew that much French. "Je vais vous aider. Come tomorrow at lunch if you can, and the next little while. I saw your marks, and they're decent. You should be okay. D'accord?"

"Uh. Je n'est pas supposed to be dans le classe here," Sean said. "I think. Um. Je fait le extra-credit beaucoup."

Mlle. Deslauriers chuckled. "You'll be fine," she said. "Trust me. I've worked with less. Sure, you've missed a few months. You'll just have to try harder. Now get to your next class or I'll have someone yelling at me." He nodded and left, knowing that his protests would do him no good. He made a mental note to talk to the principal about switching out of French, then realized that his other options hadn't been any better.

The rest of the morning followed more or less the same pattern. He was behind in most of his classes, and ahead in a select few, but the teachers were generally quite willing to help him. He was somewhat surprised at just how friendly they were--he supposed that was the result of living in a fairly small community.

He ate his lunch outside. There were a few flakes of snow in the air, but he'd always liked the outdoors, and he wasn't quite ready to face a cafeteria full of people, or a lunch hour inside the school. There were still things which he had yet to figure out how to handle. He was happy by himself, anyway. He'd never really minded being alone the way many of his classmates did. He wasn't anti-social, by any means, but he just didn't care much either way. He was, however, slightly suspicious when a slim brunette approached him about two minutes after he sat down.

"Hi," she said. "I think you forgot to introduce yourself to me. I'm Sunny." She stuck out her hand, which he took after a slight hesitation.

"Um, Sean," he said. "Sean Cameron." He tried not to laugh as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and then carefully leaned against him. He very tactfully moved away. "It's nice to meet you? I guess?"

"Of course it is," said the ditz-known-as-Sunny. "You so want to get on my good side. I'm on, like, every committee in this place, so I completely control your social status." She offered what he supposed was in her mind a dazzling smile. "And your yearbook picture, of course. Or pictures, if I really like you." Once again, she moved closer to him.

"Um, I have to go," he said. "I should... go. And do stuff." He'd always been mildly frightened by girls of her type. He offered one last wide-eyed smile, and then found his way to the bathroom. He might get the reputation of being severely constipated, but eating in a bathroom stall beat dealing with Sunny, and the clones that always followed such females.

School proved to be a welcome distraction from everything else. He found himself more immersed in his studies than he'd ever been at Degrassi--not that that was necessarily saying a lot--but more importantly, it kept his mind off Ellie. He briefly reminisced about their tutoring sessions the year before--she'd always been a good student, despite everything--and then pushed the thought away. He knew he couldn't be with her until he got over her, at the very least.

He only had two classes that afternoon--Math, and much to his dismay, Drama. Much like with the French, it hadn't exactly been a choice, but he decided to make the best of it. After all, he reasoned, he was a damn good actor in every other part of his life. It wasn't always easy to pretend to the rest of the world that he was doing just peachy, but he'd pulled it off almost without fail.

He was, of course, immediately forced into a group with Sunny. 

"Okay, so I thought we'd do Romeo and Juliet, right? And I could be Juliet and you could be Romeo of course. Because you're the hottest in our group. And everyone else can just be the other people. 'Cause they don't really matter that much in the play, so if they aren't totally good looking, that's okay." She paused to catch her breath and was off again talking before Sean had the chance to say anything. "So you're like new and everything, but I'll make you a copy of the script and oh! This is going to be so awesome! I bet you're a great actor."

Sean was getting fed up, so he decided to break the rules of good manners and interrupt. "Um, I'll just stick to working on the crew or something, I think."

"No way," Sunny said. "You're too cute to stay behind the scenes. You're going to be the star, and I'll be the starlet. Or whatever. Here, you can borrow my copy of the script since I already know half my lines. Just don't learn the highlighted part because of course I'm Juliet not you. I'd better go tell Robert he's been booted though." She flitted off, and Sean tried not to groan too loudly.

He didn't quite succeed. 


	22. Chapter XXII

XXII

The shower was a ritual Ellie did not care to repeat. She was supervised the entire time, with only a thin shower curtain separating her from the nurse who had been given the job. She was, of course, allowed no razor, and she'd always hated having furry legs. It seemed, however, that she no longer had a choice in the matter. The blood came out of her hair without too much difficulty, turning her skin an ugly red for a very brief moment. It was a moment she revelled in.

They'd left the bandages on her arms, which shot to hell her plan of scrubbing at her wounds until they became raw. She guessed that they'd probably expected that. That didn't stop her from tearing at them, but the nurse quickly caught on to that particular fact and warned her that if it didn't stop, she'd lose the privelage of the shower curtain all together. Even her need for pain couldn't cancel out her need for privacy.

After that, it was off to group therapy, which she spent admiring her chipping nail polish, and then back to her room again. She was channel surfing when Ashley arrived. 

"Ash! Hey. Um. Nice to see you."

"How are you doing?" Ashley gave her an uncertain look. "Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday. I was with Craig and... Marco wanted to come, too, but he's away on some leadership thing. I talked to him on the phone though and he said he'd try and call. And I got some more of your homework, but Kwan and Simpson said not to worry about it right now if you were stressed or whatever."

Ellie was stunned. "You told them?" She tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Why not just broadcast it to the whole world? Eleanor Nash, queen of the insane."

"What was I supposed to do? Tell them you were sick? They'd want to know, okay? Much as it pains me to say it, teachers are human. They care about us." Ellie shook her head in disgust.

"Go, please. I'm not up to conversation."

"Ellie, I--"

"Go!" Ellie turned her back on her, and her words became muffled as a consequence. "Please, Ashley. It's not about you. I just can't do this right now." Ashley waited a moment, then left, dragging her feet slightly.

If Ellie had thought about it, she would have sworn that Dr. Cavanaugh had spies in the hospital. Not even two minutes after Ashley left, she entered Ellie's room. "You've got a concerned friend roaming around," she said carefully. "You sure you won't visit with her?"

"I don't need a lecture," Ellie said. "Not that that will likely stop you."

"Relax. I'm not here to lecture. I just want to know what's going on. That's all I've ever wanted to know." 

"And I want to be left alone," Ellie said, then sighed. "I didn't feel like talking to her. I don't want anyone to see me like this. Is that such a big deal?"

Dr. Cavanaugh gave her a studious look before responding. "Alienating yourself from your friends won't help you heal," she said finally.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Are you stalking me or something? I mean, don't you have other patients you should be badgering?"

"I had a cancellation," Dr. Cavanaugh admitted. "An outside patient couldn't make it, and since we didn't get a whole lot done in our session this morning, I thought I'd pop by to see how you were doing. So, how are you doing?"

Ellie's lips curled into a condescending smile. "Wonderful. Never been better. I just love being checked on every five minutes, told I can't look after myself, and being watched while I shower. It's wonderful, too, not having a razor or my own clothes or even a deck of cards. I mean, how could I hurt myself with a deck of cards? I'd be lucky to get a paper cut. I can't tie them together to hang myself. The worst I could do is maybe jam one into my eyeball." She rolled her eyes. "This place is boring. Beyond boring, even. What's the theory, that we'll get so bored that we'll eventually talk just for something to do?"

Dr. Cavanaugh shrugged. "Seems to be working with you." She wondered after if this was such a good thing to point out, but luckily, it worked. Ellie immediately calmed down.

"Well at least you're honest." The words were grudging, the tiny bit of respect in her voice even more so, but Ellie said it none the less.

"One of my policies," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "I don't lie to my patients, and I hope that they'll do me the same courtesy. I'd rather you not talk than have you lie to me."

"When can I get out of here?" It was the first time Ellie had gotten up the nerve to ask. She was terrified of what she might hear.

Dr. Cavanaugh thought for a minute before answering. "I will let you out the minute you can look me in the eye and tell me that you have no plans of hurting yourself. Can you do that now?"

Ellie met her eyes for a moment, then looked away.

"You should get some rest," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "Therapy is exhausting, emotionally and physically." She offered one last sympathetic smile before exiting the room, and leaving Ellie to get some sleep--and revisit her nightmares. 


	23. Chapter XXIII

XXIII

Ellie chewed on her lip and tried to force her mind to go blank. Dr. Cavanaugh, astute as always, noticed the look on her face.

"Talk to me," she said gently. "What's on your mind?"

Ellie hesitated for a long time before answering. It was early the next morning. She hadn't slept well, and that, as well as her circumstances, were starting to overwhelm her. She was having a hard time not blurting everything out. She couldn't quite pinpoint why she felt the need not to talk, but she didn't question it, either. Eventually, though, the burden of not talking about it won out.

"That night," she said quietly. "I can't even kill myself right. It's pathetic. I mean, the whole time, I had stop myself from yelling for someone to come rescue me. It was ridiculous. I just had to keep reminding myself why I was doing what I was doing." She looked away, studying the wall.

"And why was that?" Dr. Cavanaugh asked. Ellie only shrugged. The psychiatrist decided to momentarily switch tactics. "The dots on the ceiling," she said. "They mark where the pipes are and so on, so if they have to get at them, they don't have to take everything apart, just those tiles. Much less interesting than my explanation, I think."

Ellie smiled slightly. "You remembered," she said, pleasantly surprised. "I wasn't expecting that."

"The question was burning my brain," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "I had to know. Just thought I'd pass it along."

"It wasn't any one thing," Ellie said. It took the doctor a moment to realize what she was saying. "It was just kind of... I don't know. Forget it." Dr. Cavanaugh shook her head gently and Ellie stared at the ceiling for a moment, then forced herself to continue. "Everything just built up. My mom was home and drinking and things with Spinner were weird, and then at Sean's I just kind of lost it. I felt like such an idiot for showing up there and it was just pain all the time every day and I was sick of it. I've always been a wimp. You know, avoidance and all that other shit. So I just did it before I had a chance to change my mind."

"Do you regret it?" The question was rather impulsive, but Ellie had to think a moment.

"No," she said finally. "I regret getting caught. I regret getting stuck in this place. But I don't regret trying it."

"Can you tell me about?" Dr. Cavanaugh said softly. "Help me understand what happened, exactly?" This time Ellie's reluctance was obvious, even to the untrained eye. Her entire body stiffened, and she was shaking her head before the psychiatrist even finished talking. "Please?" She didn't want to push too hard, but she knew she would have to push a little to get Ellie to say anything. She could only hope she would find a middle ground.

Ellie chewed on her lip for a long moment. "I think I'd almost made my decision before I got there," she said. "Even before the run-in with my mother." She ignored the doctor's questioning look. "I mean, that stuff, it was just an excuse. I couldn't do it sober. So I left Bueller by Sean so he'd remember about him, and stole a bottle of his parents' vodka. It's always been Mom's favorite, so I thought it would be fitting. Found my ballpoint pen and traced my veins so I wouldn't have to look so hard when I was actually doing it." She took a deep breath. "Realized I didn't have blades on me, so I went to the bathroom and found Sean's razor. It was a safety razor, so I broke the the thing open to get just the blades. Too hard to go deep otherwise, although it does make for some good painful skin shredding. Downed the drink and started slicing. Up the tracks not across or however the saying goes. I mean, I'm not stupid. I'm not going to do anything half-assed."

The doctor nodded. "Feel any better now?"

Ellie wrinkled her nose. "Why would I? I gave in and told the details of my pathetic existance to someone I don't even know. Can I go back to my room now?" Dr. Sutherland sighed before giving a very slight nod of permission. Ellie didn't ask twice. 

They gave Ellie a sleeping pill that night, and it was then that she began to formulate her plan.

------------------------

Sean's first day back to school seemed to have been a fluke. His second day was an utter pain in the ass. It wasn't just school that was the problem. His father woke him up mumbling some accusation about a missing bottle of vodka. When Sean made the suggestion that perhaps his father had consumed it while drunk, he had to duck to avoid flying fists. He somehow came up with the idea that it would be funny to steal the rest of his parents' alcohol, and then of course, had to find somewhere to keep it. He later wondered why at the time, his backpack had seemed like a logical place.

He knew things were different the moment the school was in sight. He was filled with an all-too-familiar feeling--a combination of guilt, anxiety, and desperation. He found a parking spot, and had to force himself not to take a swig from any of the bottles he had with him.

It was a long time before he was able to make himself enter the building, and longer still before he made it to class. Mlle. Deslauriers gave him a funny look, but said nothing. He was a zombie through his other classes, and was grateful when lunch came--until he remembered his promise to get extra French help.

He showed up and she greeted him pleasantly enough, but when he pulled his textbook out of his bag, then tossed the bag on the floor without thinking about it, he knew he was in trouble. There was a muffled sound of glass breaking, and then the smell of alcohol seeped into the room.

"Ouvrez votre sac, s'il-vous-plaît," the teacher said. "Your bag. Open it, please."

He'd always been one to get immediately defensive. "It's my property," he said, a trace of anger in his voice. "You can't make me."

"Security could," she said. "You're underage. Open it." He did so, not shying away from her gaze. "Want to explain why you have those on school property?" she asked. 

He decided to go the semi-honest route. "I'm keeping them away from my parents. I didn't drink any." He was doubly thankful that he'd resisted the urge. "Do you want me to breathe in your face and prove it?"

She shook her head. "You're pushing it," she said quietly. "Take your lunch hour and dispose of those. If I catch you doing anything even remotely against the rules in the future, I'm going to have to report you. Be here after school today instead, so I can get you caught up, and maybe lecture you a bit more." She said the last sentence with a slight smile. "You're a good kid, Sean. You try not to be sometimes, but you are. Don't throw your life away because you want to maintain a certain image."

"Go to hell," he mumbled under his breath. Either she didn't hear him, or she pretended not to. Either way, he was relieved although he never would have admitted it. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed for the car, dodging the principal along the way. 

He drove to a nearby park, then concluded that breaking one more rule wouldn't hurt. There was a sharp cliff at the edge of the property, and after rescuing a few things from his bag, he tossed the rest over the edge. He didn't go back to school until the final bell rang, and he knew in Mlle. Deslauriers would be waiting for him. 


	24. Chapter XXIV

Urp. This chapter felt somewhat rushed, as did the last one, and I'm having a bit of trouble with the whole psychiatrist bit. Too bad I have no training, eh? Thanks for the continued reviews, and please don't feel the need to sugarcoat. I can take criticism, you know, and much as I appreciate the praise, there's a limit to how helpful it is (that doesn't mean you have to stop though!). Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

XXIV

"Enough of this, Ellie." Dr. Cavanaugh's words were calm, but firm. "You'll never get out of here if you can't talk to me. You did well yesterday, at the beginning anyway. But you ran away. You have to start facing things."

"Why?" Ellie said. "I like my little bubble world." Her words were less than sincere, and Dr. Cavanaugh, up until that point ever-patient, was fed up with her.

"There you again Ellie! You're changing the subject. Avoiding, running away, just ignoring what's going on and blocking everyone else from even talking to you. It's a defense mechanism, I get it. You're smart, I'll give you that. But I'm trained to do this, Ellie. Getting around me isn't that easy. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on, and I'll leave you alone for a bit. Sit here and sulk, and I'll make your life difficult."

"Go to hell. No, you heard me," Ellie said. "Leave me alone. I never asked for any of this. Don't expect me to act like you're doing me a favour. Just leave me the hell alone."

Dr. Cavanaugh laughed slightly. "Let me know when you're done your tantrum," she said. She was purposely trying to get Ellie upset, knowing from experience that sometimes it made patients open up before they even realized it.

"Oh screw you." Ellie shook her head. "You think you can just march me in here and make me talk? Get off your high-horse." The psychiatrist rolled her eyes slightly. "Fine, you want to know what's going on? I hate you. I hate myself for hating you. I hate you for making me talk yesterday, and I hate myself for giving in. I hate cutting. I hate being miserable. I hate not knowing what a deep cut looks like anymore. I hate doctors and I hate shrinks and I hate this hospital. But you know what I hate the most? All this damn hatred."

"Don't blame you," Dr. Cavanaugh said quietly. "Being angry or miserable all the time isn't fun."

"Oh, please," Ellie said. "Don't patronize me. What would you know about any of that? You're off in your well-paid, happy shrink land where the sky is blue and the sun is shining and you get to deal with the insane the whole fucking day so you can reaffirm your own normality. Glad I could make your life that much brighter." She stood up and stormed toward the door as best as she could in hospital-issued slippers.

"Ellie." It was enough to stop her in her tracks. She remained by the door, but she turned to face the doctor, a frustrated expression on her face. "You've got to know by now that most practicing psychiatrists and psychologists are in it because they've had their personal stuff to deal with, and saw the industry first hand. If I were in it for the money, or selfish reasons, or whatever, I'd be in private practice, not a hospital on a government salary. I care, okay? I do this because I want to help. Maybe I'm naive in thinking I can make a difference, but you'll never know if you don't give it a chance. Please, can you sit back down?" Ellie remained in the same place. "The anger isn't a bad thing," Dr. Cavanaugh continued. "You're letting yourself feel, for once. But again, you're trying to run from it. You walk out the door, and you prove me right, you know that don't you?" Ellie gave a short, unhappy nod, and without looking at the doctor, returned to her seat. Her jaw was still set, and her facial expression unimpressed, but she let her eyes flicker very briefly to the psychiatrist's face, which, she was satisfied to see, held no trace of smugness.

"You mentioned your mother yesterday," Dr. Cavanaugh said tentatively. "Can you tell me about your family?"

Ellie hesitated, then nodded. "Dad's great," she said. "He's just wonderful. I mean, he means more to me than almost anything in the world. I can debate with him without it getting heated, I can tell him things I can't tell anyone else, and he's fair, too. He doesn't let me get away with it when I do something he thinks isn't up to my own standards, or anything like that. He's in the military, which is why he hasn't been to visit me. He's on a peace keeping mission right now, so it's not like he could just drop everything and come running or anything, and I don't expect him to. I mean, I hope they don't tell him about any of this. I haven't." She looked down. "He doesn't even know about the--the cutting."

"Why not? You seem to trust him."

"I can't do that to him. I can't let him down, and I mean, I don't want him to worry about me or feel like he can't leave or anything. It's not fair to him."

"And it is fair to you?" the doctor asked. "It's fair that you should be dealing with this without the support of your family?" Ellie shrugged. "Your mother. What about her? What's she like?"

"She's my mom. I mean, what am I supposed to say?" Ellie was immediately defensive, something that did not go unnoticed.

"Just because someone is related to you does not mean they're perfect, Ellie. I'm not going to go running to her if you say a word of two of criticism. For that matter, if I did, I would probably lose my job."

"She's my mom, and I love her," Ellie insisted. "And I'm not talking about this. I don't care if you think I'm running away or avoiding it or whatever. I'm through with this for today."

The psychiatrist glanced at her watch and nodded. "Okay. You may go." Ellie had expected protests, and gave her a mild look of astonishment. "Go on," the doctor said again, with a hint of a smile. As usual, she'd managed to completely deflate Ellie's resolve.

Ellie hesitated another moment, then did as she was told. She spent the rest of the day refusing visitors and ignoring phone calls--and making a few visits to other patients on the ward. When it finally came time to go to bed, she rolled over, her back to the door, and embarked on her plan.

It took some time before a nurse noticed the blood seeping through the sheets.


	25. Chapter XXV

XXV

"Where did you get it, Ellie?" Dr. Cavanaugh was not pleased.

Ellie stifled a yawn. "Get what?"

"Where did you get the razor blade?"

"It's after midnight. I'm exhausted, and I'm not doing this right now. Besides, it's none of your business. You never said I couldn't cut. You gave me different clothes, you yammered on about how cutting sucks, but you never forbade me, and I never promised anything. I'm going back to bed." Ellie gave her a condescending glance before standing up.

"Fine. Go back to your room. I'll follow you there, and I won't stop bugging you until you tell me. The fact that you were able to get your hands on a blade indicates a very serious flaw in the system and I am not going to just stand by and listen to you snore while other patients could be using the same way to harm themselves." Ellie left the room, and Dr. Cavanaugh did as she had promised. When Ellie reached her bed, she climbed in and turned her back to the chair. Instead of sitting down, Dr. Cavanaugh walked around to the other side of the bed, a stern expression on her face. Ellie flipped over, and once more, the doctor moved into her line of sight.

"Fine," Ellie said grudgingly. "Some idiot gave razors to the druggies, and drugs to the cutters. So we traded. It isn't exactly rocket science. I give up my ever-so-slightly soggy sleeping pills, and I get my wonderful sharpies in return. Guess someone's going to be losing their job." She smirked openly.

Dr. Cavanaugh sank down into the chair and leaned back, crossing her legs. "Why'd you do it?" she asked. "Why tonight? Why, in the one place where you actually have a fighting chance to be happy again, did you feel the need to risk everything?"

Ellie stared her in the eye. "I wanted to," she said defiantly. "I wanted to, so I did it. Too bad it didn't fit in with the plans that you just happened to forget to consult with me about."

Dr. Cavanaugh ignored the comment. "Did it perhaps have anything to do with starting to talk to me? Or maybe the question about your mother?"

"Of course not." Ellie cringed slightly. She knew from saying it so quickly, it was pretty obvious what the real answer was. "Okay, maybe slightly. But it's none of your business anyway."

"I'm your doctor, and you've been hospitalized. Everything you do is my business, I'm afraid."

"Doesn't mean I have to say anything." Ellie was adament.

"That's true. But if you don't talk, I can't help you, and if I can't help you, it'll be longer before you get out of here."

"Can I please just get some rest? Lack of sleep makes me delusional. Unless that's just a delusion."

Dr. Cavanaugh shook her head in disbelief. "It certainly makes you a lot less funny," she said, smiling slightly. "Get some sleep. I'm posting someone outside your door for the night. If nothing else, it will make you think twice about doing this again." Ellie shrugged and burrowed down into the blankets, pointedly ignoring the doctor until she left. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry, but she absolutely refused to do so in front of anyone--doctor, nurse, or guard.

---------------------------

Sean lay awake staring at the ceiling, and wondering vaguely if Ellie was doing the same. He was still chastising himself for being so stupid with the alcohol, and the whole fact of the alcohol itself was bringing back a flood of memories--for once, not entirely about Rick.

He'd ruined things with Emma more than once because he'd been drinking, a fact he wasn't proud of. He might have moved on to Ellie, and then Wasaga, but he still wished he could have treated Emma better. When Rick had pointed the gun at her, he had a brief thought that maybe it could fix things between him, that maybe the guilt would go away. It hadn't. Instead he felt guilty about Rick, guilty about leading Emma on--because it was obvious in the way she looked at him that she wanted him back.

He knew he should shut his mind off and just sleep, but it wasn't that simple. He'd never had trouble sleeping before, even when his parents were drunk and fighting, he blocked it out. Ever since the shooting, though, his nights had been hell, and it showed. Things had gotten a little better since moving back to Wasaga, but he still had dark circles under his eyes, and he never quite felt awake.

He wondered how much longer he could carry on without Ellie. For awhile, she had been his world. He'd done everything for her--confessing to the theft of Mr. Simpson's laptop, stopping the parties at his house--and he knew it wasn't healthy to be so devoted to her, or her to him. But that didn't stop him from craving her touch or the angles of her body or worrying about whether or not she was falling apart--and he knew now that she was. He wanted to call her, to hear her voice again, but he knew it would be for purely selfish reasons.

But damnit, why couldn't he be selfish for once? 


	26. Chapter XXVI

XXVI

Ellie was in her room, reading through her homework, when he arrived. She hadn't been allowed a pencil without supervision, so there was a limit to what she could do--and therefore, she let herself be easily distracted. This time, though, she didn't look up until she heard his voice.

"El!"

Her eyes lit up. "Dad? How...? I thought were peacekeeping until at least March!" She hopped up and wrapped her arms around him--an unusual display of affection for her, even with her dad.

"Woah," he said, laughing slightly. "Calm down. Your doctor--Dr. Cavanaugh?--she had me tracked down. Worked after-hours on your behalf to make sure I could take a leave. She told me why you were in here, but of course couldn't say anything more. She said that there are a few things you might want to get off your chest though. And also offered us some family counselling sessions. He paused. "So, did you want to tell me anything? She said something has been going on for awhile."

Ellie looked up at him and then down again. He guided her to the edge of the bed and then knelt down until his eyes were level with hers. She chewed furiously on her lip, refusing to meet his eyes. She had no idea where to begin.

"Eleanor, sweetheart. Please."

"Dad..." Ellie said desperately. He didn't avert his gaze, nor did she make eye contact. "I--" She leaned forward and put her head in her hands, and he gave her a gentle hug. "I cut myself," she said finally. "I'm sorry, Daddy." She buried her head in his shoulder, but he pulled away and tipped her face toward him, concern in his eyes.

"How long as this been going on?" he asked quietly.

"Dad--"

"How long, Ellie?"

She swallowed hard. "A year. A bit more. I've been seeing a counsellor for a lot of that. And it hasn't been constant. I just--I couldn't tell you. I couldn't make you worry. It's bad enough over there."

"That should be up to me to decide. I'm an adult. I'm supposed to deal with these things. You're not." He sighed. "Your mother's been drinking, hasn't she?"

"You can't blame Mom because I did something stupid," Ellie said.

"I'm not blaming her Ellie. I'm not blaming you either. I just need to know what's going on. I need to know everything that's going on." Dr. Cavanaugh entered the room and sat down. Ellie noticed her, and decided it was easier to tell the story once and get it over with.

"I moved out," Ellie said. "Earlier this year. She set the place on fire. It wasn't bad, just the kitchen, but I moved in with Sean, and she went to rehab. I was scared I was going to start cutting again if I stayed home. Then there was the shooting, and Sean needed to go to Wasaga to be with his parents. It was just too hard for him here. And I didn't know what to do. I mean, even before he left, things were bad. But I couldn't pay the rent or for Bueller's stuff, so I moved back home. I knew Mom would probably need me anyway, even if rehab did go well. And then she hit me--and I don't blame her for it--but I didn't know what to do. So I went to Sean's, found an excuse, and wound up in here."

Mr. Nash reached forward and smoothed Ellie's hair away from her face. "It'll be okay," he said. "We'll get this thing figured out." It was the first time she dared let herself believe it might be true. Coming from him, it suddenly seemed possible again. She nodded, and he smiled at her. "That's my girl," he said, tugging on her hair as was their custom. "But I should let you talk to the doctor, and I want to go see your mother. She doesn't even know I'm back in town yet." Ellie nodded again. "I'll be back later, okay?" He left the room and Ellie looked longingly after him for a moment, then glanced at the doctor and immediately changed her expression to a much more guarded one.

Dr. Cavanaugh thought for a moment before carefully wording her question. "Are you feeling okay after getting that off your chest?"

Ellie shrugged. "I didn't want to make him worry," she said. "He deals with enough as it is. Part of me is glad I don't have to hide it from him, but I let him down. I mean, I should have been able to deal better. He shouldn't have had to worry about this at all."

"Isn't it his right?" the doctor asked quietly. "He loves you. And even if he does worry, it's because he cares. Parents in general want the opportunity to worry. And when you don't tell them what's going on, they imagine things to be a million times worse than they are, even. You shouldn't have to do this alone. Your Dad's an adult. He'll be okay if he's a bit anxious. He'll deal with it, and he'll feel better for knowing that you were able to talk to him." Ellie chewed furiously on her knuckle. "What is it?" Dr. Cavanaugh asked gently. "Now you're the one worrying."

"Just thinking," Ellie said. "I guess it never really occurred me. I don't know if I can believe it, not yet anyway, but it's something." She resumed chewing on her knuckle for a moment. 

"I painted my nails, you know. Before I did it. And fixed my makeup. Didn't want to die looking uglier than I had to. Besides I thought the nail polish might mask the stench if, you know, my bladder went." Dr. Cavanaugh gave her an incredulous look. "What?" Ellie said. "Surprised I thought about it? It's been many a time that the thought dissuaded me. But 'We shall overcome...'" She half-sang the last few words.

"You have a sense of humour," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "Even through all of this. That's a big thing, you know. If you can laugh, you have a fighting chance. Hold onto that." Ellie had no idea how to respond, so she remained quiet. "Your mom," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "You have trouble talking about her, I know that. But you did when your dad was here, and you didn't ask me to leave or anything like that. Can you tell me a little more?"

"She was always really good to me," Ellie said, somewhat reluctantly. "She'd throw parties for me when I was young, and play with me, and then Dad started being deployed more frequently, and she started drinking a lot. I guess maybe poor coping skills or whatever you want to call it run in the family. When Dad's around, she's generally okay. He didn't even know about it for awhile until I accidentally blabbed it out."

"You said she hit you, and we saw some bruises on your body when we brought you in here. Had she done that before? I need to know what we should do about that particular aspect of your situation."

Ellie clamped her mouth shut, then with a cold look at the doctor, spoke tersely. "I didn't get anything I didn't deserve. And I don't want to talk about it anymore, please. I've already said enough for now."

The doctor nodded. "Fair enough," she said. "But I am still curious as to what sparked last night's actions." She tilted her head, wearing a sympathetic smile.

"It was stupid and impulsive," Ellie said. "Nothing to discuss, really."

"Impulsive?" Dr. Cavanaugh asked cautiously. "I don't mean to doubt you, Ellie, but if you got your blade the way you said you did, that required at least a little planning."

Ellie sighed. "The whole idea was impulsive, okay? Maybe actually doing it wasn't. I mean, once I had the blade, that was it. Game over. I hate talking about my life. It's no one's business. And I figured that if I was going to be trapped in here, the least I could do was deal with it the way I wanted to."

"Don't you think you're worth more than that? You wouldn't do it to anyone else, would you?" Ellie shook her head. "Then why yourself?"

"It works. Makes me happy. Besides, why shouldn't I? I don't see what's so fantastic about me that I don't deserve it."

Dr. Cavanaugh thought about it for a minute. "Do you trust me?" she asked. "Actually, don't answer that. Do you trust your dad?" Ellie immediately nodded. "Then trust him when he says you're worth loving. He's a rational man, and you seem to respect him about everything else. Just think about it, okay?" Ellie made no promises, but there was a vague pensive look in her eyes. "I have to get to some of my other patients, Ellie. But there will be nurses checking in on you as usual, and if you need anything, just ask. I've tracked down a pack of cards for you--they're in your dresser drawer--and the TV's right there. And of course, you could always journal--crayons only, though, I'm sorry to tell you. Every kept a journal?"

Ellie nodded. "Sauve--Ms. Sauve made me keep one for awhile. Wanted me to write down my feelings when I cut. Didn't exactly work out well. Knowing she would read it kind of made me censor myself."

"Well, you might want it try it, just for yourself sometime," Dr. Cavanaugh said, with a parting wave. "Or bad poetry. That's always a hit." She chuckled, then left Ellie alone.

Ellie didn't play cards, or even flip to an infomercial. For once, she let herself think, and feel, and nothing more--but right then, that was everything. 


	27. Chapter XXVII

XXVII

He was going to it. Sean Cameron was absolutely going to call Miss Ellie Nash. Maybe. Problem number one, he quickly discovered, was that he didn't have her extension number at the hospital. Problem number two, was that he had no guts.

The first issue was easily enough solved. He called the front desk, pretended to be her father, and got the number, no questions asked. The second proved to be a little more difficult. He dialled one number, then hung up. Dialled two, and hung up. Dialled all but one, and hung up again. He went through that particular routine for nearly an hour, grateful that he'd had the good sense to do it on a Saturday, and that he didn't have much homework.

He frittered away the rest of the day playing with Bueller and working on upcoming school projects--and that was saying something!--before he finally forced himself to return to the phone. It was after supper, and he knew if he didn't do it soon, he never would. Hands shaking, he turned the dial of the ancient phone.

It took five rings before he got an answer.

"Hi, Ellie?"

He was astonished to be greeted by a very familiar male voice, but one that he couldn't quite place. "One minute." 

"Hello?" It was Ellie this time, sounding vaguely confused.

"Ellie? It's Sean. I, uh, almost thought I had the wrong room, there." He chuckled nervously. Great, he thought. I sound like a complete idiot. Way to go, Cameron.

"What? Oh that was... Um, Spinner's here," she said.

Sean was more than a little bit confused. He was unaware of the blossoming relationship (if it could be called that) between Spinner and Ellie, but he decided not to ask about it for now. "How are you doing?" he asked. Once more, he wanted to smack himself. The very fact that she was in the hospital spoke for itself.

Ellie was careful to keep her voice level, despite the fact that Spinner was rolling his eyes and reaching for her hand. "I'm okay. But um, this isn't a great time, so if you could tell me why you're calling that would be good."

Sean took a deep breath. It was, he supposed, now or never. Of course, he knew as he thought it that he was being a tad melodramatic, but the panicked sense of urgency remained. "Ellie, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I left you behind. Stuck you with the rent. That I couldn't be there for you. And I'm sorry I said we couldn't be together. The truth is, I need you Ellie. You said you needed me, but I need you, too."

Ellie let her hair hide her face, hoping Spinner wouldn't pick up on what was happening. "No," she said softly. "No, Sean, we can't do this. You were right. We're not ready to be together again. Not now, and maybe not ever." She could hardly get the words out. "I have a boyfriend, Sean. I should have told you, but we weren't exactly talking. It's time for both of us to--to move on." It was taking every ounce of self-control for her not to burst out crying, or to beg for him to come and hold her and love her and save her. "Take care of yourself, Sean. And we'll talk sometimes, still. But..." She couldn't finish--she couldn't even hang up. The phone dropped out of her hand, and for a moment, Sean was able to catch snatches of the dialogue in the room.

"El, what was that all about?" It was, of course, Spinner's voice. 

"It's nothing," Ellie said, her voice weak. "Just Sean. He wanted to make sure I was okay. That's all it was." Sean heard the bed creak, and then the dialtone. It took him a moment for all of it to sink in, for him to realize that Ellie, this time, had rejected him. But it wasn't the rejection that bothered him--it was that he couldn't have her--could maybe never have her. He was lucky, he supposed, that he didn't have the guts to follow her lead and stick a razor in his wrist.

---------------------------

Ellie was glad that she was a decent actress. It took a minute to pull herself together, but she soon resumed conversation with no trace of her emotion showing. Spinner was blabbing about something sports related (as usual), leaving Ellie to her own thoughts as long as she pretended to look interested. Spinner didn't care that much, anyway--as long as he could talk, he was happy, and didn't require the same in return--in fact, he tried to avoid it. In his mind, that made Ellie the perfect girlfriend. That, and her inherent 'hot-ness' as he often bragged to his friends. He was also quick to mention how good she was in bed. Ellie was aware of that last fact, and she knew vaguely that it should have bothered her, but it really wasn't a major concern at that particular time.

Ellie hated herself for saying no to Sean. She hated herself for hating herself for saying no to Sean. And she hated the fact that if he were in front of her, she would have tried to tear his clothes off and sleep with him. She was brought back to reality when Spinner leaned forward to kiss her. She pushed him away gently. 

"No PDA, okay?" she said. "Not in here. Not with the nurses staring at us." He pouted, but eventually relented. "But when I get out, I'll make it up to you, okay?" She gave him her own pouty look, which quickly turned his into a greedy smile.

"And that's why you're mine," he said.

"My shrink wants me try pills," Ellie offered up to him. "She thinks it might help me. Something about depression. She hardly knows me, yet she thinks she can snap her fingers and make me happy." He gave her a disgruntled look. "Sorry," she said. "Tell me more about your sports stuff. Educate me. I know nothing about it."

"Why was Sean calling you?"

"Spin, I told you. He just wanted to make sure I was all right. It's not a big deal."

"How did he even know you were in here? He is your ex. I'm allowed to worry."

Ellie sighed. She'd been fearing this. Spinner was the jealous sort, and prone to mini tantrums. It often took some work to placate him, but placating was what she did best. "Spinner, you're my Hormone Boy. I'm with you, okay? Not Sean. Things between Sean and I are over. They don't exist. There is no Ellie and Sean. It's Ellie and Spinner. Freak Girl and Hormone Boy. And I made that clear to Sean. You heard what I said." She felt neauseous saying it, but at that moment, keeping Spinner seemed to be the most important thing in the world. She hoped he wouldn't notice that she'd side-stepped his question.

He leaned forward and gave her a kiss, and this time she let him get away with it. "I wish I could bust you out of here," he said. "I miss you."

"I miss you too." The words were automatic. She'd been parroting his words lately, agreeing with whatever he said because it was easier than thinking about what she was doing. At least when he had part-ownership of her body, she didn't have to consider the impossibilities of love and the idiosyncracies of a relationship. She could let her body do the talking for once.

But god how she wanted Sean. When she was with him, she didn't have to think either--she could let herself be happy, instead of numb. And she still had the oppotunity to think--or at least she always had--if she so desired, which often she did. She let out a breath and turned back to Spinner, pasted a smile on her face, and made herself numb. 


	28. Chapter XXVIII

I'm aware that the story is starting to drag slightly--I have a few things planned still that I'm trying to work in, though. So bear with me while I get it figured out.

Thanks, as always, for the reviews.

* * *

XXVIII 

Spinner left--finally--and Ellie barely had two minutes to herself when her parents entered. She immediately sensed trouble, and not just because they both had very fake smiles pasted on their faces.

"Hi," Ellie said, her voice wary. This was not what she needed right at that moment.

"How are you sweetie?" Her mother didn't bother to speak at all, and she dropped her smile almost immediately. Ellie realized that her dad had more than likely dragged her there.

"Fine."

"Oh, you're fine are you?" Mrs. Nash finally broke her silence. "You're fine after your little outburst the other day? I've had it up to here with you, Eleanor."

"Mom..."

"No. Shut up for once. I'm sick of all this drama. I give up. Your father and I are separating. He didn't have the guts to tell you. Thought it would be too upsetting or some shit like that. He's weak, that's all it is. Just like you. Weak!" It was then that Ellie realized her mother was drunk. As usual. She was surprised it hadn't occurred to her earlier.

Mrs. Nash was suffering a full-blown tantrum now. She grabbed a lamp and threw it across the room, and the ceramic base shattered. It was enough to bring the security offers running. They quickly escorted her out of the room, and Ellie was, to her relief, left alone. Mr. Nash had followed them to try and calm down his wife--or, Ellie guessed, ex-wife. Her mother had always been reliant on her dad.

A moment later, Dr. Cavanaugh entered the room, and Ellie lost control. "Damnit, why can't you leave me alone for once? I'm supervised every second. When you think something upsetting happens, you come running, hoping to goad me into talking about it. I'm sick of this place. I'm sick of you and seeing your arrogant face every time something goes wrong in my life. Leave me the hell alone."

Dr. Cavanaugh, of course, did not. She took her usual seat and waited until Ellie finished her tantrum. It didn't take long, and Ellie immediately felt rather sheepish, but would have rather died before admitting it. Of course, she would have rather died than many things, but that was irrelevant.

"I'm not getting a great impression of your home life," Dr. Cavanaugh ventured. "But is it an accurate one?" Ellie waited a long time, then nodded. It took the doctor slightly by surprise. Ellie had been adamant for so long about not discussing it that Dr. Cavanaugh had grown to expect it.

"She's drunk almost all the time," Ellie said quietly. "When Dad used to come home, she would stop, but now they just fight. They try to hide it from me, or at least Dad does, but I'm not stupid, and I know that a lot of it is over me. Dad yells at her for not being a good mother and she yells back that he's abandoning us. This isn't the first time they've threatened divorce. But usually it's Mom threatening it and never meaning it. She needs Dad. He's everything to her. I'm just the unfortunate byproduct of unprotected sex, and of course the maid. She makes a mess when she's drunk then if I don't clean it up, the next day when she's sober, she thinks I did it. And then when she found the condom, she just lost it."

Dr. Cavanaugh furrowed her brow. "You and Sean...?"

"No. Well, yes, but not this particular time. Um, Spinner and I."

The psychiatrist raised both eyebrows in surprise. "Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but you and Spinner don't exactly seem... right for each other."

"We're fine." Ellie was immediately defensive, desperately trying to convince herself that Dr. Cavanaugh was wrong. "He's sweet. I like him, he likes me."

"Like? What about love? As cliched it may sound."

"We're fine. Yeah, love, whatever. We love each other. I know what I'm doing, okay? I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were. But tell me, Ellie, when you two are together, how do you feel?" the doctor asked.

"I can forget things, okay? I can forget what's going on in other aspects of my life. That's what love is. Forgetting everything else when you're with the other person." Ellie looked around the room, focusing on everything but the psychiatrist.

"Spinner wants to take you out for an hour or two," Dr. Cavanaugh said. "Convince me it's not a bad idea."

"I need a break," Ellie said. "I'll behave myself. I'll promise not to hurt myself. I want out of here, even if it's just for a short time. Please."

The doctor considered her words, then nodded. "I'll see what I can do," she said. "No guarantees. And if I have your permission, I'd like to talk to your father--not about anything you've said to me, of course. Just to get his take on the situation."

"Fine," Ellie said impatiently. She didn't really want to agree, but she thought it would give her a better chance of getting out of the place for awhile, even if it were with Spinner. She mentally corrected her statement to 'especially with Spinner,' even though she had an idea that the first version was much more accurate.

-----------------------------

Sean, despite his best efforts, had retained his role of Romeo. He didn't know half his lines, but that was okay because Sunny seemed more than content to whisper them in his ear. He had wanted to do a more humorous version of the play, but Sunny vetoed that idea, preferring to kiss poor Sean every chance she got. Sean was less than amused.

He'd been mentally kicking himself ever since calling Ellie. He wished he'd stopped himself and saved them both the pain of the whole event. He hated himself for hurting her, and he missed her. Knowing that he couldn't have her had intensified his desire.

He still spent his lunch hour alone in a bathroom stall. He hadn't made any friends in Wasaga and didn't intend to. Friendship took an energy he didn't have. He was having a difficult enough time as it was staying up to date in all his classes.

He knew he was withdrawing. He'd never been a social creature, but he barely spoke now, and certainly never initiated a conversation. Mlle. Deslauriers had been the first to notice it, and although she spoke her concern, he brushed it off with a grunt and a shrug of his shoulders. She was aware of what had happened in Toronto, of course--everyone was--but beyond that, no one had any idea what was going on.

His father had a hunting rifle, which he had discovered when looking for old pictures one day. He'd been feeling particularly sentimental, hence the images, and froze when he saw the gun. He hadn't ventured into the room since, and, in fact, stayed out of the house as much as he could.

And he knew that he had gotten most of what he'd come for. He'd dealt, some, and it would soon be time to go home. Toronto, he'd discovered, was more of a home than Wasaga had ever been.


	29. Chapter XXIX

Alas, we are coming to an end. This will be concluded within a few more chapters. After all, there are always sequels if I get bored again.

* * *

XXIX

It took a few days to get everything arranged, but bright and early (by his standards) on a Saturday morning, Spinner dragged himself out of bed to take Ellie on an outing of no more than two hours.

Ellie was waiting, dressed in her own clothing--they'd finally allowed it, although she wasn't allowed to keep her shoes in her room, or have anything remotely dangerous--and raring to go. She'd been ready for a good hour when Spinner finally showed up at one o'clock.

Dr. Cavanaugh gave them each a few numbers in case of emergency, then with a warning look at Ellie, bade them farewell. Spinner escorted Ellie to his car, and that was when the trouble began.

Ellie had been expecting him to take her out for a meal, so she had passed up lunch at the hospital. While she didn't particularly mind not eating, Spinner was offended that she had assumed he would pay for such a thing. It took her a few moments and several kisses to convince him she was sorry.

He drove them to a secluded area just outside of the city, and after talking for precisely two minutes, started to tug on her skirt. She took his hand in her own.

"Stop," she said quietly.

"Oh come on," he said. "I've been waiting forever." He reached for her shirt this time.

"No." He rolled his eyes.

"Well will you at least--"

"No!"

"But you're good at it..." He used his best cajoling voice which, Ellie realized, was quite pathetic--and had been all along. She couldn't believe that she'd ever fallen for it.

"I can't do this anymore," she said. "When I slept with Sean, he made me feel beautiful. I felt safe with him, like nothing could hurt me. And maybe that's cliched, but cliches exist for a reason. You don't care about me, Spinner. You care about your hormones. You care about sex and blow jobs and whatever else you can manipulate me into. And, I'll admit it, I chose to go along with it. I don't blame you for that. But I'm through with this. Take me back to the hospital, please."

He shook his head. "Get out," he said.

"What are you...?"

"Get out!" He pushed at her shoulder, and she finally had the sense to obey. She opened the car door, hopped out, and a moment later, he was gone.

She stood there for a moment, completely stunned, before she started the hike back to Toronto. It took her forty-five minutes to reach a pay phone, and when she did, her mind went blank. Finally she remembered the paper in her pocket, and pulled it out. Dr. Cavanaugh's office number was first on the list.

"Okay, Ellie, you can do this." She muttered the words to herself, not quite believing them, but before she had time to think about what she was doing, she had dialed.

The psychiatrist picked up midway through the first ring. "Dr. Judith Cavanaugh, how may I help you?" The words were automatic. There was a long silence. "Hello?"

"Um..." Ellie said finally. It wasn't a brilliant start. Dr. Cavanaugh recognized her voice, and saved her some hassle.

"Ellie. Where are you? What's going on?" She knew that if Ellie was calling, she was desperate.

"It's kind of a long story. I'm at a pay phone in front of, um..." She twisted around to look at the sign behind her. "In front of the Quik Pik. A convenience store. I'm okay, but..."

"I'll have someone get you right away. Just stay there, okay? It'll be fine." After Ellie promised to do so, the doctor hung up. A few minutes later, a yellow Volkswagen Beetle pulled into the lot, and a hand waved Ellie over.

Hesitantly, she approached the vehicle. The door opened and Dr. Cavanaugh stepped out. "I was on my lunch break," she said. "So I thought I'd come get you myself. Hop in." Ellie gave her a slightly confused look, but did as she was told. To her surprise, the doctor didn't immediately head for the hospital. "From the looks of things, you had a less than stellar outing," she said. "Want to tell me what happened?"

Ellie started to shake her head, then realized that suddenly, she did. "Spinner and I broke up," she said quietly. "I dumped him. He wasn't exactly happy about that. I just couldn't do it anymore. All he wanted was sex. He didn't care if I enjoyed it or felt loved or safe and at the time that was okay with me."

"What changed?"

Ellie glanced down for a minute, then over at the doctor. "Everything," she said. "I'm just sick of all of this. Sick of being miserable. Sick of putting myself after everyone else. I mean, I can't say that I honestly one hundred percent believe that I'm wonderful, but it was either kill myself, or fix things. And since I'm not really fond of breaking promises, I went with the second option. Or at least tried to."

Dr. Cavanaugh nodded, trying to be careful not to ruin Ellie's sudden willingness to talk.

"I'm scared," Ellie said, her voice barely audible. "Terrified. I don't want to be like this forever. I--I started drinking, too. I don't want to turn into my mother. But..." She blinked back tears and wrapped her arms around herself. Dr. Cavanaugh pulled into an empty parking lot.

"But what?" She took off her seatbelt and twisted to face Ellie.

"It's easy," Ellie said. "Cutting is easy. Drinking is easy. Having sex with someone I've known for a week is even easy. Doing this--talking--isn't. I don't even know how, half the time. I can hardly wrap my head around the concept of telling someone all the intimate details of my life. The only reason I'm doing it right now is because I'm forcing myself not to think about it." She abruptly shut her mouth.  
"How much do you want it? How much do you want to beat this thing and be happy again? Because that's what it's going to come down to. I mean, we can have you in and out of hospitals until you're eighteen at which point we can't really force it, or you can fight your way out of this."

There was a long silence, and Dr. Cavanaugh had almost decided that Ellie wasn't going to respond. She reached for her keys, ready to drive them back to the hospital.

"I want it."


	30. Chapter XXX

XXX

Ellie was walking down the street, away from her Dad's apartment, when she saw him.

"Sean." Her expression flickered from a nervous smile to regret, then back to a nervous smile again. "I didn't know you were back in Toronto."

"As of last week. My French teacher in Wasaga pulled some strings and got me back on student welfare. Um... I needed to be back here, you know?" He silently cursed at himself. Of course she didn't know. After all, he'd left her a few months prior because he 'needed' to be in Wasaga Beach with his parents.

"Can I buy you a coffee?" Ellie asked finally.

"I shouldn't..."

"Please. I, uh, have a few things I'd like to say," she said quietly. He hesitated, then nodded, and escorted her to The Dot. Spinner was working, and he shot one quick glare at Ellie, who glanced away. She quickly stepped up to the counter and ordered--from a different worker.

"Um, a black coffee and..." She glanced at Sean.

"Cappucino," he said. "I don't have quite the stomach you do." They found a table near the window and sipped at their drinks, trying to ignore the awkward silence. Ellie was the one to break it, surprising both of them.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I imposed when you probably weren't ready to see me. I know you don't want my apology for that, but I am sorry. And I'm sorry I tried to kill myself and that you had to find me that way. And most of all, I'm sorry for what happened with us. Not because it's my fault or yours, just that it happened."

"I'm sorry too," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I called you at the hospital and assumed everything could be the same. And I'm sorry for all the things I apologized for then. And I'm sorry that it took me so damn long to say that I'm sorry."

They both stared down at their drinks for several more minutes.

"So how are things?" It was Sean who spoke this time.

"They're good. I mean, not perfect. I'm still seeing Sauve, and Dr. Cavanaugh, too. But I'm living with Dad, and I'll stay there alone when his leave ends. I've only seen my mom a few times. She's not doing so great, but I guess there's nothing I can do about that. Which, as I'm sure you know, is a big realization for me." Sean nodded. "What about you? How are you?"

"Good. School's going to be a challenge. I don't know if I'll lose another year. I'll scrape by if I'm lucky. I went yesterday. It was weird being back in there. But not as bad as I thought it would be."

She offered him a tentative smile. "I'm glad," she said quietly, then bit her lip. "Sean... When you called me in the hospital, I wasn't ready for a relationship. I mean, I was with Spinner, but even that--I wasn't ready for it. And I didn't say no because I didn't love you or because of Spinner. I said no because deep down, I knew it wouldn't work. Not then. I was too reliant on you. You were the reason I stopped cutting. The minute I lost that, I lost everything. And I couldn't do that again. I couldn't put either of us through it. But Sean, I... I still love you."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He wanted more than anything just to kiss her and be with her again, but he loved her too much to do so.

"I'm sure," she said.

He broke into a smile. "I love you too." 


	31. Epilogue

Epilogue

Several months later...

She woke up naked beside him, and she knew that whatever happened, she would be okay. 


End file.
